None Left To Protest
by kate04us
Summary: An AU that explores what might have happened if Sharon had taken that job offer she used as a trap for Goldman in season 7 of The Closer. What if she's in trouble and Andy runs into her just when she needs him most?
1. Chapter 1

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 1**

 _I love you with so much of my heart_

 _that none is left to protest_

 _\- Much Ado About Nothing (4.1.286-87)_

 **A/N:** This is an idea that **Kadi219** planted in my head a while ago. Many thanks to her for that and for listening to my whining.

Also big thanks to **NarcissaNerea** for the awesome beta job! Still, whatever mistakes you find, they're mine.

It's an AU that explores what might have happened if Sharon had taken that job offer she used as a trap for Goldman in season 7 of The Closer.

 **Disclaimer:** Not my sandbox, not my toys. I don't make any money with this. Too bad, really.

* * *

Sharon Raydor was exhausted, and she was frustrated beyond words. She had lost count of how many times she had checked her watch in the last hour. The plastic chair she sat in was uncomfortable, and her body ached in ways she had not felt in years. She shifted in her seat and rolled her shoulders to try and ease the tension in her back muscles. Her feet burned painfully, having been trapped in her fashionable heels for too many hours. A uniformed officer strode towards the row of chairs that was located along the wall at one side of the large room. She straightened a little as she saw the man approach her, assuming that someone was finally ready to help her. At the last moment he focused on the elderly lady next to her.

Sharon did not miss the slight smirk on his face when she sighed in exasperation. The other woman had arrived after her, as had the man they had called before her, and the family before that. She was aware of what was happening. Even though she was no longer a member of the LAPD and had not been for almost six years, they had not forgotten who she was. Before she had taken the job at the Los Angeles Convention Center, Sharon had been the head of the LAPD's Force Investigation Division. Many of the officers that were milling around the crowded, loud room she was currently in had gotten to know her in that capacity at some point. Those who had not, had heard the stories from their older colleagues. She was Darth Raydor. She was the Wicked Witch of FID, or she had been before she had retired. That was something no one around here would ever forget.

Sharon recognized some officers. Sergeant Miller had been in her office at least five times over the years. He had a short fuse and a loose fist, and had visited more than a few anger management courses upon her recommendation. There were a few officers who had been involved in shootings at some point, some had been accused of roughing up suspects or getting into fights with colleagues. All of that had been routine for her, part of her daily work for as long as she could remember. It had never been personal for her, no matter how many officers had accused her of that.

Apparently, those old grudges were not forgotten. She wondered how long they would keep her waiting before someone would finally decide that their point had been made. It had occurred to her that she could make a call and file a complaint. There were still some people around the department who would care about the way she was being treated, but that was not her style. They were trying to see how far they could push her; they always did. She had always had more patience. At some point they would have to give in. She would wait.

Over two hours later, Sharon finally stepped out of the building, leaving the crowded halls of Central Division with its oppressive smell of too many warm bodies in wet clothes behind her. It was raining heavily, and she stopped in the entrance to search the street for a cab. Getting a taxi was not easy on a good day, but almost impossible when it was raining. Not for the first time did she think that it might be a good idea to sign up for this Uber thing Emily kept talking about, but Sharon had never felt it necessary. She had a car and drove almost everywhere, and the days when she would go out with friends and drink too much to drive herself home were long gone.

When she spotted a vacant cab and rushed towards the curb with her arm held up, she cursed quietly as thick drops beat down on her. She narrowly missed stepping into a puddle and was still looking down when a large wall of dirty water came at her and soaked her from head to toe. The taxi had been about to pull up in front of her, but at the last minute the driver had decided to take a couple of younger women farther down the street instead. He had hit the accelerator, speeding through a gigantic puddle right in front of her in his hurry.

Sharon yelped in shock as the cold water hit her, gasping for air and blinking rapidly to clear her vision. For a long moment she simply stood there, her arms held slightly away from her body, her eyes closed in disgust as the reality of her situation began to sink in. There was not a single dry thread of fabric left on her body, her hair was soaked and heavy, and her makeup was probably running down her face. She was resigned to walking all the way to Los Feliz, convinced that no taxi driver would stop to give her a ride in her state.

Taking her glasses off to try and stop the rivulets of water running down her forehead and into her eyes, Sharon took a deep breath and let it escape with a sigh. It was already getting dark, and the prospect of walking through the rain for a good two hours was anything but pleasant. She swallowed hard, her eyes burning with suppressed tears. That day could not possibly get any worse, and it was the fitting conclusion of yet another horrible week.

Just as Sharon had turned to start walking down the road towards home, a dark blue Charger pulled up beside her and the passenger side window was rolled down. She sighed once again, expecting some smartass comment from the driver. It would not have been the first time she had been catcalled by some random guy. It was a sad fact of life for any woman in the city, and she was accustomed to ignoring the unwanted attention. It was the familiar voice and the title she had not heard directed at her in years that made her stop and peer into the car.

"Hey, Captain," Andy Flynn yelled from where he was leaning over the center console of his car to get a better look at the pitiful sight of a very wet Sharon Raydor. He had not seen her since before she had resigned from the LAPD to move on to greener pastures. Some security job, if he remembered correctly. It had surprised him when Taylor had told them about her plans, all too gleeful to have some juicy gossip to share with them, but he had not thought about it all that much. Many cops took their pensions and found other occupations at some point.

Sometimes he had wondered about her. When Provenza had shot the guy who had threatened their material witness and Sergeant Davis had annoyed his partner with his stupid questions, or when Julio had been suspected of killing his mother's caregiver and Staples had hung around their murder room like a bad smell for two days. On those occasions he had almost wished that she had not left. As annoying as Raydor had been, her little minions were far worse. At least she had a sense of humor and a nice pair of legs.

At that moment, however, she did not appear to be particularly amused. Not that he could blame her. He had seen the idiot cab driver give her an unwanted shower from where he had waited at the red light a little farther down the road, and when he had recognized the unfortunate woman, he decided to see if he could help out.

He saw her grimace when she realized who he was and suppressed a smile. Yeah, they hadn't liked each other very much, he thought. Despite that, Andy was not prepared to leave her to fend for herself. Ignoring her expression and the forced civility when she returned his greeting, he leaned over to open the passenger side door.

"Get in, I'll give you a ride," he offered. While she took a few seconds to think about his unexpected kindness, he reached back to find the old blanket he knew was somewhere on the floor behind his seat. He had used it only a few days before when he had taken his step-grandsons for a picnic to the park. With a little grunt he managed to tug it out from under whatever was weighing it down. When Raydor stepped forward to climb into his car, he held the blanket out to her.

"Here, put this around your shoulders. You've got to be freezing," he said kindly. Fall was fast approaching, and the rain and wind had chased away the heat of the day.

She took it with a grateful smile and wrapped it around herself, then she slid into the seat beside him and closed the door. He thought that he heard a soft sigh of relief when she stretched her legs out in front of her. He expected her to take off her wet shoes, but she did not seem to be comfortable enough to do it in his presence.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate this very much," she said once she had buckled up and leaned back, tugging the edges of the blanket around her more tightly.

"Don't mention it," he replied gruffly. He quickly adjusted the temperature controls, making sure that she would be comfortable, before he looked over at her. "So, where are we going?"

Sharon gave him her address while he tried to merge back into flowing traffic and point the car in the direction of Los Feliz. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her picking at a loose thread at the edge of the blanket, her fingers restless where they lay in her lap. The silence that followed quickly grew uncomfortable as neither one of them knew how to break it.

It was not as if they had ever been particularly close. He had known her almost since she had joined the force, and they had spent some time together when they had all been young, when he had been friends of some sort with her husband, and their boys had played ball together. Then Jack had left and she had gone over to the dark side of the force. They had lost touch, and annoyance and resentment had taken the place of what might have become an easy friendship.

During the time that she had audited his division a few years earlier, he had slowly grown to respect her and the work she did. He didn't necessarily like it, especially when she followed them around like a hall monitor, but she had done it to save their collective asses. He could appreciate that. And then she had vanished, seemingly fed up with the way she had been treated over the years. At least that had been the reason Taylor had given them. Now that she was sitting right next to him, his curiosity was hard to suppress. There were so many questions, but he decided to start with the most obvious.

"So, what kind of business could you possibly have with the morons at Central?" His tone was teasing, and there was a little twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Sharon huffed a laugh, only very slightly amused. She remembered all too well what Andy Flynn thought of Central Division, or pretty much any other division in the entire LAPD for that matter. For once, however, she could not find fault with his assessment. During the hours she had been kept waiting, _morons_ was one of the more harmless terms that had gone through her mind.

She hummed as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the headrest. "Someone threw a brick through my windshield. I was trying to get the paperwork out of the way." She did not look at him, not feeling entirely comfortable sharing her most recent problem with a man who was practically a stranger to her. And yet, there was a strange sense of relief in speaking about it.

There was no way she would tell her children about it. She would not worry them with something that did not concern them. They were far enough away for this issue not to touch them, and she wanted that to remain the case. Her husband was gone and had been for several years. She had only a very vague idea where he might be, and even if she knew how to reach him, she would not want to talk to him. She had friends, but they all had their own lives and their own problems, and meeting for a friendly chat over drinks had been the last thing on her mind lately. When she finally made it out of the office at night, Sharon was eager to get home and try to get some sleep.

Next to her, Andy huffed a short laugh. "You're making friends wherever you go, aren't you?"

His tone was dripping with his trademark sarcasm, and its familiarity was strangely comforting. It was something she missed in her new job. The people she worked with at the convention center had a softer, gentler sense of humor than the cops she had spent most of her life with. She often found herself holding back a biting retort at the last moment, fearing that it would be misunderstood by the people surrounding her.

"Are you okay, though?" he added, suddenly serious again. He cast a quick glance over to where she sat, eyes still closed and clutching the ends of the blanket tightly. She looked pale and drawn, thinner than he remembered, and there were dark circles underneath her eyes that were not entirely caused by her smudged makeup. If someone had told him half an hour earlier that he would be genuinely concerned about the Wicked Witch, he would have called them crazy. And yet, here he was, already wondering what he could do to help her.

She finally opened her eyes again and gave him a long, penetrating look, trying to figure out why he cared. In the end, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. With evening rush hour traffic, it would be a while until they made it to her place, and if he really wanted to know, it was as good a way to kill time as any.

"Yes, I'm fine. It seems as if I managed to frustrate someone else with my rules, however." He laughed at that, obviously remembering his own objections to her precious rulebook and the many discussions they had had about it. Her own memories made her smile slightly. They'd had some interesting arguments over the years. It had certainly never been boring when Andy Flynn was around.

"Actually, I think it is more about the fact that my new boss is not a big fan of women in the workplace. Ever since he took over, he has been trying to convince me that I would be better off staying at home. I'm reasonably sure that this is just another way to get me to quit." She shrugged as if everything that had happened over the last weeks did not bother her. It was what she wanted everyone to believe. Most of all, it was what she wanted her boss to believe.

"I guess he doesn't know you very well," Andy replied, not really joking. It had been a while since he had last seen her, but if there was one thing about Sharon Raydor that he would never forget, it was her stubbornness. The harder that jerk pushed her, the harder she would push back. There was no way she would give up. She hummed again, and there was a small smile tugging at her lips, but it seemed half-hearted at best. Despite the brave front she was putting up, he could tell that it was bothering her.

"I guess not. Sometimes I do wonder why I keep doing this, though. I could finally do all the traveling I always dreamed about. I could spend more time with my children. Instead I am fighting an insecure, under qualified man for the right to do my job." She did not look at him. Her gaze was directed at the buildings they were passing by, the people rushing through the rain, the cars by the side of the road. It was the first time she had verbalized these doubts, and why she was doing it with a man she barely knew, who had barely respected her in the past, she did not know.

Andy cast a quick glance in her direction before turning his focus back on the road. "It's what you've done all your life. When was the last time you took more than a week off work?" he asked, a knowing half-smile tugging at his lips.

Sharon was quick to correct his assumption, a smug look on her face when she turned her head towards him. "Actually, I took two weeks off in the spring."

Her protest did not faze him. "And?" His eyebrow was raised in challenge as he waited for her answer. It only took a few heartbeats before she deflated and rolled her eyes.

"I hated it," she confessed. "The first few days were great, but then I thought I would go out of my mind with boredom. There are only so many days you can spend at the beach, reading a book."

His laughter turned her pout into a smile. He, just as most of his colleagues at the LAPD, was as much of a workaholic as Sharon. They always wished for more time off to do the things they liked, to spend time with their families. It was fine as long as there were kids to take care of. They would keep them busy all day long. Once the children were out of the house or too old to want to be around their parents all the time, extended vacations turned into that thing that sounded great in theory. In practice, however, it was a lot of time spent fighting boredom. Traveling was a good idea, too, but doing it alone simply did not appeal to most people.

As for Sharon, she had always imagined that she would do all these things with her husband, that they would go on this adventure of retirement together. It had not worked out that way. He had decided to waste their money and most of his life gambling and drinking. He would rather be with younger, less demanding women instead of his nagging wife. A few years ago, she had granted him his wish. It had taken more than twenty years, but she had finally taken that last step and filed for divorce after he had once again tried to con his way into her heart and her bank account. Now she was free.

It had not really bothered her, being completely alone at last. She had mourned the loss of her marriage many years ago, and while it had hurt to draw that final line, it had also made her feel like she could finally move on. She had two wonderful children and a job that she loved. Her life was good. That was, until a man half her age tried to turn her professional life into a nightmare. Suddenly, going to work every day did no longer fill her with happiness.

"That's enough about me and my problems, though. How have you been, Lieutenant?"

Andy shot her a quick look, raising an eyebrow at her obvious attempt at changing the subject, but in the end he gave in. She had already shared a lot more with him than he would ever have thought possible, so it was not surprising that she would want to divert the conversation away from her personal matters.

For the rest of the drive they kept their conversation to more general topics. Andy updated her on department gossip and the latest development in the race for Assistant Chief Taylor's job. Everyone was still shaken up over his sudden death. The funeral had only been a few weeks before. Sharon told him how much she regretted not having been able to attend, as she had been out of town on business at the time. She might have had her differences with Taylor, but at the end of the day, they were all one family at the LAPD, and they had all known one another for many, many years.

Before they knew it, Andy followed her directions to the guest parking spot of her apartment building and turned off the engine. He got out of the car and opened her door for her, taking her purse out of her hand when she struggled with the blanket.

"I'll walk you up to your door," he offered, as if it was the most natural thing to do. He locked the car and gestured with his hand for her to lead the way. When she remained where she was, giving him an incredulous look, he shrugged. "What? I like that blanket, and I want it back. And don't even think about giving it back now. If you freeze to death on your way up, I'll end up getting in trouble again. So come on. The sooner we move, the sooner we can get you out of those clothes."

Sharon's eyes widened at his words, and it took a moment for Andy to realize what he had said. Tugging at his earlobe, he shrugged and smiled at her sheepishly. "You know what I mean," he grumbled. When she rolled her eyes in response and started moving towards the elevators, he let out a relieved breath. The last thing he wanted was to give her the impression that he was seeing her _that_ way. Although, now that the idea was out there, it was hard to steer his mind away from it. She _was_ a very attractive woman, and when she was not trying to shove the rulebook down his throat, she was pretty good company, too. Shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts creeping into his head, Andy took a few quick steps to close the distance that Sharon had already put between them.

He almost ran into her when, a few yards from his car, Sharon stopped in her tracks just as he had caught up with her. A soft gasp escaped her as she took a step back, bumping into Andy's chest. His hands came up automatically to grasp her upper arms, making sure she would not lose her balance. When he peered over her shoulder, the Lieutenant saw what had unsettled her so much.

On the white wall, about a foot above the sign that read _1109_ , no doubt indicating the apartment number the parking spot was assigned to, one word was sprayed in large, red letters – _SLUT_. From Sharon's reaction it was easy to deduce that they were standing in front of her spot and that the word was directed at her. Instinctively, his hand went to his side, resting on the hilt of his weapon, even though the person responsible for the unwelcome message was unlikely to still be around.

Before he had a chance to ask if she was all right, Sharon straightened up and stepped away from him, her shoulders rising and falling visibly as she took a deep breath. He decided to give her another moment to overcome her shock. Hand still on his gun, Andy slowly turned around on the spot, his eyes and ears on the parking garage around him, checking the shadows and corners for anything suspicious. When nothing caught his attention, he walked over to where Sharon was standing, studying the graffiti, his arm reluctantly falling to his side once again.

She carefully touched the disfigured wall, testing whether the paint was still wet. The tip of her finger came away clean, but she still rubbed it against her thumb as if attempting to rid herself of the residue. "I suppose it is safe to say that whoever did this is no longer around," she concluded, her voice low, but with a steely edge to it that was all too familiar to Andy.

He nodded in agreement, but still kept his guard up in case the dirtbag had decided to hang around to see her reaction to his little piece of art. "Do you want to call it in," he asked, already trying to figure out how he could speed things up for her a little bit.

For a long moment Sharon studied the offensive writing, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line as she thought about what she should do next. The thought of spending another few hours waiting for officers who did not like her to do their jobs, of listening to them whispering behind her back, too loud for her to miss, was thoroughly unpleasant. Her feet burned, and her back and head throbbed with a dull ache, making her long for a hot bath to warm and relax her frozen body.

"No, I don't think I will. What is the police supposed to do about this? There will not be any useful fingerprints, and there are no cameras, so it would be close to impossible to identify the person who did this. Anyone can access this garage during the day. For all we know, it has nothing at all to do with me. It could just as well have been a random act by a bored teenager," she reasoned, tugging the blanket a little closer in an effort to keep the cold draft from chilling her even more.

Andy frowned, studying the scene in front of him once more. "Do you think that's likely," he asked, not entirely happy with her decision. He did not like it that someone seemed to be willing to bring whatever grudge they had against her to her doorstep.

"Probably not, but it doesn't matter. I won't be standing out here in the cold for another couple of hours for nothing. I'll call the facility manager tomorrow to ask him to have this removed and that will be it. There is no use in thinking about this any more," she decided, her tone firm and the look she gave him warning him to let it go. He did. Instead he followed her to the door that led to the elevators, casting one last glance behind him before they rounded a corner.

When they reached the door to her condo, Sharon removed the blanket from around her shoulders and folded it carefully before handing it back to Andy. "Thank you once again for the ride, Lieutenant. That was very kind of you," she said, smiling up at him, her keys already in her hand.

Andy shrugged her words off, curling his fingers into the rough fabric of the folded blanket to keep them from tugging at his earlobe. "Don't mention it, Captain," he mumbled, suddenly uncertain of how to take his leave. There was a small part of him that wished he did not have to just yet, and it confused him a little.

Sharon was equally at a loss, torn between wanting to be polite and her need for a bath and a change of clothes. She was still somewhat thrown by his unexpected help and the surprisingly pleasant time they had spent together on the way to her place. "I would offer you a cup of coffee, but I should…" She tugged the damp fabric of her jacket away from her body to indicate what she meant.

His grin made the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle and made the brown orbs sparkle, sending another chill down her spine, one that was not at all related to the unfortunate state of her clothing.

"Nah, it's okay. I get it. You're eager to strip and start warming up," he agreed, giving her a wink, indicating that the innuendo was completely intended this time. She hoped that he would not see the blush that suddenly warmed her cheeks in the dim light of the hallway.

Giving him a small smile, she glanced up at him through lowered lashes, her voice deep and husky when she bade him good night. Before she could close the door behind her, his soft voice calling her name stopped her, making her poke her head through the small gap to look at him.

"Promise me to watch your back?" She studied him for a long moment, taking in the sincere concern she saw in his gaze. Then she blinked to tear her eyes away from his, nodding her head in reply.

"Of course," she agreed. "Good night, Andy."

He stared at the closed door for several seconds before he turned around to leave, shaking his head at what had just happened. His partner would think that he had lost his mind if he told him that he had just flirted with Sharon Raydor and that she had flirted back.

As he made his way back to the parking garage, his thoughts returned to Raydor's predicament, wiping the smile off his face. When he passed her parking spot, he took out his phone and quickly took a few photos of the graffiti on the otherwise pristine wall. Even if she did not want to pursue the person responsible, it would not hurt for him to make some discreet inquiries. He would not do anything that would raise any alarms, but it could not hurt to poke around a bit. Maybe he could dig up some dirt on that new boss of hers that she could use against him. He had already outlined his next several steps when he pointed his car towards Valencia, feeling much better about the entire situation.

 **~TBC~**


	2. Chapter 2

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 2**

Sharon closed her front door after sending Lieutenant Flynn on his way, leaning her forehead against it and closing her eyes. She drew a deep breath and let it escape slowly as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

What _had_ just happened?

She still felt her skin tingle with the memory of his intense gaze, her cheeks hot from the blush that still lingered. When was the last time someone had flirted with her? It did happen occasionally, at the grocery store or the coffee shop, a random man on the street, eyeing her legs or chest in passing. That was different, however. It made her feel uncomfortable, cheap in some way. Andy Flynn's noticeable interest, on the other hand, gave her an almost forgotten rush, like a cup of strong coffee late at night, sending a pleasant buzz along her nerves.

Pushing herself away from the door, Sharon kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse on the hallway table before she made her way to the bathroom. A small smile was tugging at her lips as she slowly peeled out of her damp clothes, the fabric clinging to her body. Andy's words, heavy with innuendo, still echoed inside her head, and for a brief moment she wondered what it would feel like if it were his hands opening the tiny buttons of her blouse or unzipping her skirt. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to indulge in that little fantasy. Her fingers brushed over her chilled skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. Her breath caught in her throat when she dragged her bra down her arms, exposing her sensitive nipples to the cold air. She let her hands travel along her sides, sliding down over her slightly rounded belly to the elastic waistband of her simple cotton panties. Would he like what he saw?

She opened her eyes and met her own gaze in the mirror. Her skin was flushed all the way down to her chest and her eyes were dark with desire, but her wonderfully sensual bubble burst the moment she truly saw her reflection. Her hair was a tangled mess of wet strands and her carefully applied makeup was smudged beyond repair, leaving dark shadows under her eyes that made her look like a raccoon.

Spinning away from the mirror, she huffed at her own silliness as she turned on the water to fill the bathtub. Her hand briefly hovered over the expensive jasmine bubble bath her daughter had given her for her birthday before she grabbed the large, pink plastic container next to it. There was no reason for fancy scents. The generic fruity soap would do just fine. No one would notice, anyway. She poured a generous amount of it into the steaming water, taking a deep breath of the refreshing scent, before she placed the bottle back on the shelf and quickly stripped out of her panties, any thought of a certain Lieutenant's hands pushed from her mind.

As she lowered herself into the scalding water, she held her breath for a long moment, waiting for her body to adjust to the temperature. Then she leaned back and slid down until the water reached her chin, closing her eyes and enjoying the way her muscles slowly relaxed as they warmed up. For a second she imagined strong arms wrapping around her from behind, tugging her into a broad chest, but she shook herself out of that fantasy just as quickly as it had appeared. It was a ridiculous idea. Andy Flynn was notoriously attracted to young, attractive women. He might have flirted with her earlier, but that did not mean anything at all. It certainly did not indicate that he was interested in her. She was closer to sixty than she cared to admit, and her body had definitely seen better days. Even if she was in reasonably good shape, time, gravity and giving birth to two children had left their traces. She had nothing to offer to a man with Flynn's taste for youth, besides, they didn't even like each other very much. One civil conversation was not enough to change that.

With one more sigh, Sharon resolved to let go of her day, including her sudden and inexplicable interest in Lieutenant Flynn. He had done her a favor. She was grateful. End of story. If anything, her strange reaction to his kindness proved once more that she needed to get out more. Maybe she would call Gavin later. They hadn't met for drinks in a while, and she missed him. She already felt slightly better about her day as she closed her eyes and thought about a cold drink and a good laugh with her best friend.

* * *

As relaxing as her weekend had been, it took less than an hour of being at work on Monday morning for her tension headache to reappear. When she came into the office at eight in the morning, she found a note on her desk informing her that there was a meeting at seven thirty. She assumed someone had left the note for her on Friday evening after she had gone home. It was just another deliberate attempt to make her appear incompetent and unprepared. Why else would that information not have been sent via email as was usually the case? They had known she was out of the office, and they also knew that she came in at eight every morning unless something special came up. Dumping her purse behind her desk, she grabbed her phone and a few files she might need and headed over to the conference room, resigning herself to another week of relentless mobbing.

It was Wednesday afternoon when she returned to her desk from yet another meeting to find a manila envelope on top of the stack of files she had been working through before heading out earlier. Her name was scrawled on it in big, unfamiliar letters. Carefully setting down the papers she was carrying and sinking into her chair, Sharon gingerly took the envelope and opened it. There was nothing overtly suspicious about it, but her instincts told her to be weary. They were proven right when she shook out a handful of photographs of her with one of her young colleagues.

Jeff was her protégée. He was only a few years older than her daughter and a smart, ambitious young man. He wanted to learn everything there was to learn about the business, about leadership and management. He was her shadow, constantly looking over her shoulder, soaking up everything she said and did, and Sharon had grown very fond of him over the three years he had worked with her. Jeff had become a little bit like a second son to her, especially since his family lived on the East Coast and he did not get to see them very often. He had spent several holidays at her house as part of her family.

The photos Sharon had taken out of the envelope had been taken at a small celebration she had thrown at the office when Jeff had announced that he would get married to his boyfriend of three years. They showed her hugging the young man, touching his face affectionately, kissing his cheek, smiling up at him as both her hands rested against his chest. None of the captured situations were in any way compromising. To someone who did not know anything about the nature of their relationship, however, it might look suspicious. The unspoken question was ringing in her head as if it had been written all over the images in her hand. How easy would it be to make people believe that an older, single woman used her position to lure a younger subordinate into her bed? What would people think?

Of course, those working with her would know right away that any such allegations were pure fiction. They knew her and, more importantly, they knew Jeff. What concerned her a little more was the impact rumors like that could have on the clients she dealt with and their trust in her. The success of her job depended on people trusting her, and she could not risk losing that. For the moment she decided to ignore the clear warning. Her boss was not supposed to be in town for the rest of the week, so any conversation she would want to have with him would have to wait until the following Monday, anyway. She carefully returned the photos to the envelope, which she then put into her purse. Even if she did nothing about this, just as she had done nothing about the graffiti in her garage, she would keep the pictures. They were quite beautiful, despite the reason they had been given to her, and would look very nice in one of her family photo albums. Maybe she would ask Jeff if he wanted copies of some of them. She would have to warn him anyway, to make sure that he would be prepared for any made-up stories that might surface.

She had ended up showing them to her entire team when she had gone to brief Jeff. They had loved them very much, teasing her and her young protégée endlessly about their _sordid affair._ One of the photos now adorned the picture wall in their break room. Her only other reaction to the photographs was a short note she left on her superior's desk before she headed home on Friday afternoon. _Sean, thank you for the lovely photos. So thoughtful of you. The team and I enjoyed them._

She knew that he would drop by the office later that day, as soon as he returned from his trip. The implication that she had not hidden the pictures or appeared to be ashamed of them would hopefully keep him from going through with any plans he might have had. If her message ended up ruining his weekend, she would take that as a welcome bonus. With that thought on her mind, she left the office, a smile on her face.

* * *

After a mostly quiet work week due to the fact that Sean had been away for more than half of it, it had been much easier for Sharon to enjoy her weekend and put the thoughts of her boss and his grudge against her out of her mind for the most part. She had spent most of her Saturday working out and doing housework, both of which she managed to do entirely too little off in recent weeks. In the evening, she had met a few college friends for dinner and drinks. The ladies had even managed to drag her onto the dance floor for a little while. When they had tried to set her up with a man to take home she had put her foot down, however. It had never been her thing to pick up someone at a bar. She needed to know a person for a while to decide whether or not she wanted to go out with them. That was the main reason she had been alone for such a long time, but she saw no need to change that at the moment. Her friends grudgingly accepted the way she managed her love life.

Despite the late night, Sharon had gotten up early on Sunday morning to attend mass like she did every week. With her more predictable hours, she had found more time to get involved with various charity projects her church did than she ever had before, but with the recent changes at work, she had been forced to cut back on that once again. There simply had not been enough energy left for her to spend on anything but the bare necessities. Sunday mass had been the one thing she had not allowed herself to skip, though. No matter how horribly her week had been, she always found a little bit of peace there. Whenever she could, she went to confession afterwards, feeling that the unburdening of her soul helped her find the strength to face each new week.

When she had told Father Brian about her trouble at work after mass earlier, he had been very worried and had urged her to take action. Of course he was aware that Sharon was a former police officer and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he still could not help feeling protective of the woman he had known for decades. She had also mentioned Andy Flynn and her wayward thoughts about him. While, officially, the father had told her that, in the eyes of the church, she was still married and should not think about another man in that way, his personal advice had been a little more understanding.

Father Brian had met Jack often, had heard the man's confessions for many years. He had counseled the couple repeatedly in their various attempts to fix their marriage. He had listened to Sharon as she talked about the heartbreak he had caused her and the guilt she felt for her part in ruining their relationship. To say he was not Jack Raydor's biggest fan would be an understatement. The priest knew that, whatever mistakes she had made, whatever blame she carried for the failure of their marriage, Sharon had always been faithful to her husband, even long after he had left her for good. He knew that she had often been lonely, and he was not ignorant of the human need for companionship, even if the church failed to recognize it outside marriage. Father Brian had advised Sharon to allow her heart to guide her instead of a set of rules that had been written centuries ago and were in desperate need of an overhaul. He trusted her to do the right thing, and when she had still hesitated, he had asked her if she believed that God would have given her such a loving and generous heart if he had intended her to spend most of her life alone.

That was the thought Sharon had moved around in her mind ever since she had stepped out of the church half an hour earlier, and it kept her busy all the way home. She had to admit that it had felt good to have a man pay attention to her in that way. It was a pleasant thought, having someone to come home to at the end of the day, someone to talk to, someone to hold her and love her. It did not necessarily have to be Andy Flynn. The thought of them as a couple was somewhat ridiculous and it made her smile as she turned the last corner towards her building's garage. Maybe the next time her friends tried to set her up with a date she would let them, just to see how it went. She did not have to take him home, after all.

When she pulled into her parking spot and saw a familiar figure approach, she shook her head and wondered if maybe God was having a good laugh at her expense. Turning off the car, she collected her purse and got out to greet the man she had just thought about.

 **~TBC~**


	3. Chapter 3

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 3**

Sharon Raydor locked her car and leaned her hip against the door as she waited for Andy Flynn to make his way over to her. She tilted her head and studied him as he approached, dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt and a Dodgers jacket, a folder tucked under his arm. He looked casual and relaxed, as if it was completely normal for him to drop by her house unannounced.

"Lieutenant, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you are stalking me," she joked, pressing her lips into a thin line to keep from responding to his lopsided grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I'm a busy man. No time for things like that, as tempting as it might be to follow around a beautiful woman like you." He winked at her, his gaze taking an all too deliberate tour up and down her body. It should bother her, but instead, Sharon lost the fight against her smile. He was making fun of his own reputation and she could appreciate that.

"If you didn't come to cause mayhem, might I ask what brought you here?" She stared at him where he stood right in front of her, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Andy mirrored her stance, hugging the folder to his chest as he crossed his own arms. "Who said I'm not here to cause mayhem?" he asked, letting the question hang in the air between them until she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, trying to figure him out. "It's the good kind of mayhem, though. I promise you're gonna like it. Do you think we could discuss this over that coffee we skipped last week?"

He was bold, confident, and a little too forward for her taste – all things she was used to from him in a professional setting. Away from their jobs, without the distance her rank and position provided, she was a little unsettled by it. She was uncertain how serious he was, whether his flirting was a genuine show of interest or simply his way of communication. It was easy when she was prevented by their work relationship to react to it, but now she was forced to figure out how to deal with it. For the moment, she decided not to acknowledge it, her curiosity about whatever it was that he thought she wanted to see winning over any other concerns.

"All right, let's go," she replied, nodding in the direction of the elevators.

They spent the journey to her floor in silence, both avoiding to look at the other. Only after she unlocked the door to her condo did Sharon speak again. "Make yourself comfortable, Lieutenant. I'll put the coffee on," she suggested, as she slipped out of her shoes and dropped her purse and keys onto the table.

Andy automatically reached out to help her out of her coat, shrugging when she gave him a startled look. He put it on the coat rack in the corner, got rid of his own jacket, and followed her into the living area. His eyes took in the spacious room with the tasteful, expensive looking design. It fit her, he decided, even though the numerous ballet pictures surprised him. He had expected her to be more into landscapes or maybe modern art, the kind he would never understand. Everything he could see was clean and organized, but it still felt lived in. He liked it very much.

When he turned towards the kitchen, something caught his eye that seemed out of place in the neat environment. He would have put it down to her having been too busy to notice or take care of it, but the condo did not seem as if it suffered from neglect, apart from that one bouquet of wilted black roses sitting in a vase on the breakfast bar. A small card with a short note was leaned against it.

 _Know your place or suffer the consequences._

Sharon had obviously overlooked it on her way to the coffee maker, and she did not seem to notice it on her way back, either. She briefly glanced in his direction as she walked past him, excusing herself for a moment to get changed into something more comfortable, but she did not acknowledge the presence of the strange flowers. She was almost around the corner when he sprang into action, grabbing her arm and holding her back, placing a finger against his lips when she turned on him, an irritated expression on her face and her lips parted, ready to object. When she saw his hand fall away from her arm and move to the gun he wore at his side, she frowned, then followed the sideways nod of his head. He heard her small gasp when she finally saw the flowers and stepped aside to let her approach the vase so she could look at the message that came with it.

It only took her a few seconds to read it. When she whirled around to face him, her eyes were wide and he could see all the pieces fall into place inside her head. Someone had been inside her home, and they might still be here. He closed the distance between them, his weapon a reassuring weight in his hand.

"Do you have your gun in your purse?" he whispered, nodding towards the hallway where she had left the moderately sized handbag.

Sharon raised an eyebrow, not quite believing he would ask that. "No, Lieutenant, I do not have my gun in my purse. I am not in the habit of going to mass armed. It's in the lockbox in the bedroom." Her tone was sharp and impatient, her eyes scanning the room systematically to check if anything else was out of place. It was obvious that her training had kicked in, but unarmed she would have to stay behind while he cleared the rest of the apartment, whether she liked it or not. Fishing his phone out of his back pocket, he unlocked it and handed it to her, more for something to do than anything else. "Here, call Mike Tao and tell him to come over and to bring his bag and Buzz along. I'll check out the other rooms."

She grabbed the phone that was thrust into her hands by reflex and stared at it for a second. When she looked up, Andy was already on his way down the hall towards the bedrooms. The impulse to follow him was hard to resist, but he was right to go alone. Keeping a careful eye on his progress, she flipped thought the Lieutenant's contacts until she found Mike Tao's name. With a deep breath, she selected it and waited for the call to connect, expecting a painfully awkward conversation.

It took several rings before someone answered the phone, and by the time she heard Lieutenant Tao's voice on the other end, Andy was on his way back, his posture relaxed and his gun returned to its holster. She waved the phone at him to speed him up and avoid the questions that would undoubtedly follow when the other man found out who had called him.

With an eye roll and a grin, Andy took the phone out of her hands and greeted his partner. While he filled him in on what had happened, Sharon listened with half an ear, her attention on the macabre display on the bar. The more she thought about it, the more she felt violated by the intrusion into her home. This was no longer something she could dismiss or handle with a glib message to the man responsible. She was grateful for Andy's presence because at that moment Sharon felt ill-equipped to handle the situation, despite being aware of the proper procedures. It was quite different to be on the other side of a crime, especially when it was as personal as a home invasion.

When Andy ended the call, he returned the phone to his pocket and approached her, putting a gentle hand on her elbow to get her attention. "Mike and Buzz will be over in a little while. They'll document the scene and see if they can find any useful evidence." At her reluctant nod, he continued. "How about we look around and see if the dirtbag disturbed anything else?" Sharon nodded once more and slowly started to move around the room, careful not to touch anything.

While she walked through the living room, she felt Andy following her, close enough to be there in case she found anything, but still giving her the space she needed to wrap her mind around what had happened. When she was done with the living area, she shook her head at his questioning look, indicating that everything was as it should be. They moved down the hallway, and while Sharon checked the bathroom and the guest bedroom, Andy waited at the door, his gaze following her every move.

The moment she stepped into the master bedroom, she stopped in her tracks, unable to move or breathe at the sight that met her. It was his soft voice right beside her, asking what was wrong, the gentle caress of his hand along her spine that pulled her out of her shock and made her walk the few steps towards her bed.

At first glance, the room was perfectly neat, which was probably why Andy had not noticed anything when he had cleared the condo earlier. What he could not know was that the red lace panties that were neatly laid out on her pillow had not been there when she had left in the morning, nor was the small stack of photographs sitting on her nightstand. She reached out a trembling hand to pick up the images, but Andy stopped her, gently taking her by the shoulders and moving her away from the bed. "Don't touch anything," he warned, turning her to face him. He let his hands linger on her upper arms, squeezing them slightly to gain her attention, his eyes seeking hers. When she finally looked up at him, he let go of her.

"Do you have latex gloves in the house?" His tone was all business, and she drew strength from that. It reached past her feeling of vulnerability, past her fear, to that part of her that remembered what to do. She was trained for dealing with situations like that, even if she had not done that in a long time. Closing her eyes for a moment, she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing her mind on the steps that needed to be taken. With a decisive nod, she walked around Andy and headed into the bathroom to retrieve two pairs of gloves from the cabinet under her sink.

While he waited, Andy studied the image on top of the small pile, frowning when he saw what was in it. Someone must have installed a camera in her bedroom, because the picture was of Sharon standing in front of the bed, only a few steps from his current position, dressed in a dark red dress. With the hemline ending well above the knee and the neckline exposing a generous amount of cleavage, it was definitely not the kind of outfit she used to wear to work. Her hair was in a messy but elegant updo and she held a small clutch in her hand. He had a bad feeling about what the other pictures might show, but was saved from speculating any further when Sharon returned and handed him a pair of gloves, already wearing some herself.

Before he picked up the images, Andy took several photos of the nightstand and the bed with his phone to make sure the original state was documented for their investigation. There would be an investigation this time. He would make sure of it, even if Sharon still thought it could be ignored. Any thought of dismissing the seriousness of the situation vanished when they started looking through the pictures.

Sharon gasped when she realized where the camera must have been located and what exactly it had captured. While the first image was not terribly compromising, the following ones definitely were. It seemed as if he held in his hands a selection of prints featuring her nightly ritual from entering her bedroom to slipping between the sheets and switching the light off.

She took one of the pictures from him, her hands trembling as she held it at the corners to preserve any potential prints. It showed her in the process of getting undressed, her back to the camera as she put her dress onto the bed, wearing the same red lace panties that were currently laid out on her pillow, as well as a matching bra.

"Those must have been taken last night," she informed him, her voice shaking as much as her hands, her eyes never leaving the print in front of her.

Her knees felt suddenly weak as she realized that not only had someone been inside her condo while she had been at church and gone through her dirty laundry, but they had been there before without her even noticing. There was no way of knowing how long that camera had been there, documenting her every move inside her most private sanctuary.

It was the slight tug as he tried to take the picture out of her cold fingers that shook Sharon out of her thoughts, and she released her hold, allowing him to return the stack to the nightstand. With a soft touch between her shoulder blades, he prompted her to move towards the door.

"Come on," he said, "let's get out of here. The guys should be here any moment now."

Sharon was cold, the warmth of Flynn's touch a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in her bones. It was tempting to lean into it, to draw from it until the urge to shiver finally passed, and she almost whimpered when he removed his hand. She felt as if she was drifting, her thoughts a jumble of helpless anger and confusion, of uncertainty and fear. She had believed herself to be safe in her own home. It was the one place where she allowed her guard to come down, where she did not feel the need to wear any masks. That safe place was compromised, had been for an unknown amount of time. Never in her life had she felt more vulnerable, more violated than she did in that moment. She had dealt with victims of abuse – domestic or otherwise, had fought hard to give them a voice for most of her career. The thought that one day she would feel like that had never occurred to her. She had never considered herself to be the type of woman who would be anybody's victim, even though she was aware that no one was completely safe from these things.

They had made it to the dining room table and Andy had pulled out a chair for her when a knock on the door made her jump. She closed her eyes and drew a deep, calming breath as the Lieutenant went to open the door, his right hand hovering over his weapon until he had verified the identity of their visitors. Instead of sitting down, Sharon followed him around the corner, watching as Lieutenant Tao and Buzz entered her condo, carrying their equipment. They greeted her politely, their eyes discretely taking in their surroundings.

Tao got down to business right away and started asking Andy all sorts of questions while Buzz looked completely uncomfortable, both hands clinging to his camera as he waited for instructions. Sharon felt just as awkward as the young man. She had never particularly liked inviting people into her home, especially people she did not know very well. It was a place of peace and quiet for her, one that she shared with her family and close friends. To have strangers not only standing in her living room, but soon poking through the most private part of her condo made it hard for her to breathe.

Once Andy had given him an update, Mike brushed a hand over his bald head, pursing his lips as he considered their next steps.

"I know you probably won't like it, Captain," he addressed her, using her old title without thinking about it, "but we will have to call SID to process the crime scene."

It was Flynn who responded, aggravation evident in his voice as he frowned at the other Lieutenant. "Is that really necessary, Mike? I mean, come on. You know someone's gonna run their damn mouth about this."

There was no need to elaborate further. They all knew how popular the former head of FID was on the force, even years after retiring. News of her predicament would feed the rumor mill for weeks, especially considering the rather delicate pieces of evidence. When he thought about some of those photos circulating around the department, he was more than ready to argue with Mike.

Before he could start, however, Sharon's soft voice interrupted him mid-breath. "Lieutenant Tao is right. The rules are clear. I cannot ask you to ignore procedure just because I'm uncomfortable with the situation."

When Andy still seemed unconvinced and ready to object, she gave him a long look, shaking her head, before she focused on Mike. "Do whatever you have to do, Lieutenant."

It took another half an hour for SID to arrive and start processing the condo. While they waited, Mike and Buzz took a brief tour of the place to make their own video and get an idea of what they were dealing with. Then they joined Sharon and Andy at the dining room table to take their statements.

Andy had noticed how uncomfortable Sharon was, even more so when five SID officers entered the apartment. That was why it did not surprise him to find her on the balcony a little while later. She had answered all the questions he and Mike had asked her about her boss, the development of her problems with him, and everything they had found in her condo earlier. Afterwards, when the detectives had briefed SID and discussed how to proceed with the case, she had vanished.

He stepped through the sliding glass door and closed it behind him, effectively muting the sounds of his colleagues inside. Sharon stood at the railing, her arms crossed in front of her, the ends of her soft cardigan tugged around her. When he joined her, taking in the spectacular view over towards Griffith Park. His shoulder almost brushed hers, and he felt her shift slightly, as if she wanted to lean against him but reconsidered at the last moment. They stared into the distance, the silence between them comfortable, before Sharon finally spoke in a quiet, almost resigned whisper.

"Why am I still doing this, Andy?" she asked, not bothering to specify what _this_ was supposed to be. He knew. She had already hinted at thinking about quitting her job the other day, when he had driven her home. The answer was still the same, even if the circumstances were even more serious.

"Because you're not a quitter. And because, if you give up now, the asshole will do the same thing to another woman, maybe one who's not as tough as you are."

She thought about his words for a while. He was right, of course, but that did not make things easier.

"What if I'm tired of being tough?" she asked, leaving the second part of that thought unvoiced. _What if I want someone to be tough for me for once?_ It was a question that had occupied her mind frequently over the last decades, when she had been forced to be tough at work, to be tough for her children, to be tough for her husband.

"Then you let your friends help you a little bit," Andy suggested, as if he had read her mind. There was no judgment in his tone, no hint that he might think of her as weak for wanting to give up, or that he might think her incapable of handling the situation herself.

"Friends?" She tilted her head slightly to glance at him, her tone a little doubtful.

Andy shrugged, turning slightly to look at her. "Why not?"

She considered him for a moment, with his raised eyebrow and his open expression. Why not? There were many reasons that came to mind, but none of them seemed relevant anymore. Whatever their conflicts had been, they were in the past.

"Friends," she finally agreed, returning her gaze to the green landscape in front of her.

After they spent a little while enjoying the silence, Andy drew her attention to the folder he had tugged under his arm, holding it out for her to take.

"How about we start this fighting back business by going over this file? I'm pretty sure you'll like what's in there."

Right. He had dropped by earlier because he wanted to show her something. With everything that had happened since, she had forgotten all about that. It was something to focus on, and if he was right, it might give her something to use against Sean.

* * *

They had spent the rest of the morning and most of the lunch rush at the small café not far from Sharon's place, occupying a secluded booth where they went over the information Andy had managed to dig up on Sean Spencer, Sharon's boss. The young, cheerful waitress kept their cups filled with steaming coffee as they talked about different ways to handle it. A copy of the dossier he had assembled had been left on his desk the day before, originally intended for himself, but he had told Mike to look through it with Julio, whom they had decided to include in their semi-official investigation. It was technically no case for Major Crimes, but they would handle it for the moment – at least until they got a more pressing case. Chief Howard had been rather fond of Captain Raydor, because she had looked out for his wife during the lawsuit mess. Andy was sure that he would not give them any grief about this investigation.

A little over an hour earlier, Julio had called him to let him know that they were done at Sharon's condo and that it was all hers once more. He had also informed them that, apart from a small, hidden wireless surveillance camera and a few smudged partials that had probably escaped the dirtbag's cleanup attempts, they had not been able to find anything useful. A few faint tool marks around the front door lock had given them a good idea of how they had gained entrance, however.

Since they had taken Andy's car to get to the café, he had driven her home. Despite her attempts to reassure him that she would be okay on her own, he had insisted on escorting her upstairs. As she stood at her door, Sharon was suddenly very grateful for his stubborn refusal to listen to her.

Discussing possible strategies of how to use the information Andy had gathered had made her feel much less unsettled. She always dealt better with problematic situations when she had a plan, when she could outline her next steps. They had done that for several hours, during which she had felt her anxiety melt away. The fact that her companion had gone out of his way to make her laugh and relax had helped as well.

All that was gone now, however. Her hand holding the key hovered near the lock as her eyes were drawn to the scratch marks on the metal. Her heart raced, pounding hard inside her chest. Her palms were sweaty and she had difficulty breathing past the lump in her throat. On a rational level she knew that whoever had broken into her place was no longer there, but she still felt violated. In addition to that, the thought of too much time to think was unbearable. They might have come up with a plan of action, but that was going to have to wait until the next day. Until then, all she was able to do was wait, and the idea made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Andy noticed her pause as she was just about to unlock the door. He saw the way tension ran through her body, just as it had earlier that day. It was not difficult to guess where her thoughts had taken her. It was a common reaction with victims of burglaries, and he had seen it many times throughout his career. He wanted to offer to stay with her, but feared that it would be overstepping. It was something a friend would do, and while they might have agreed to be friends, it was still a very recent development, and he did not know yet where the boundaries where.

The problem with their relationship was that he had grown to like her. She was smart and she did not take crap from anyone. She was also kind and fair, and she had a wicked sense of humor that he appreciated more and more. They had not spent a lot of time together outside of work, but he really wanted to get to know her better, to discover things they had in common; he truly wanted to be her friend. He wanted more than just sharing mindless chitchat over an occasional cup of coffee. What he was unsure of, however, was whether or not she was interested in the same. There was also a treacherous little voice inside his head that kept reminding him that she was a very attractive woman, and that friendship was not the only thing he might be interested in. If he was certain about one thing, though, it was that Sharon Raydor vastly outclassed him. She would never even consider getting involved with someone like him.

In the end, it was Sharon who took the initiative. Once she had shaken off the initial wave of anxiety, she opened the door and turned towards Andy, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she briefly considered her next words. She did not want to seem needy or to impose on his time any more than she already had, but she had enjoyed their time together, despite the circumstances, and she would not mind for it to last a little longer.

"Do you want to come in for another coffee?" The question was posed in a quite, almost shy voice, and before he could respond, she hastily went on to offer him an out. "I know it is Sunday, and I would completely understand if you had other plans."

Struggling to keep from further chewing on her lip or fidgeting with her hands, she already regretted asking him, fearing that their pleasant time together would turn awkward in a hurry.

"I'd love to. Thank you," he replied, giving her one of those wide, slightly lopsided smiles that made her stomach flutter a little.

The relief she felt at his words was not solely because it averted a potentially uncomfortable situation. It was also because, for a little while longer, she would be able to push aside the dark thoughts that would undoubtedly come with solitude and silence. Returning his smile, she led the way inside, waiting for him to pass her so she could close and lock the door behind them.

When her gaze landed on an unfamiliar object affixed to the inside of her door, she paused and stared at it for a long moment. Alerted by the quiet from behind him, Andy turned, and, stepping closer, he realized what the problem was.

"Julio wasn't happy about leaving you with that clearly insufficient lock, so he installed the chain. It's not really that effective, but I guess it made him feel a little better, at least until you get a better lock," Andy informed her. "He said he left you the number of a guy on the counter who installs locks and security systems, someone that can be trusted."

His tone held a hint of humor at the last few words as he recalled his short phone conversation with the younger man. Julio was surprisingly protective of the former head of FID, even going so far as to offer his personal protection, should the dirtbag return. Andy had no doubt that his colleague would love to get his hands on the guy, but that was a pleasure the Lieutenant would like to reserve for himself – if the Captain gave him the chance. He remembered fondly how proficient she was with a gun, the bean bag still sitting in his desk drawer.

Sharon stared at him for a few beats, clearly startled by Detective Sanchez' thoughtfulness. She remembered him as a polite young man, even during those times when he had been sent to her office because of some complaint or the other. He certainly had a temper that occasionally got him into trouble, but his heart had always been in the right spot. Recommending a person to update her condo's security was one thing, but for him to go out and buy a security chain for her and put it in place was an entirely different thing.

"I…" She cleared her throat, her fingers nervously tugging a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at the floor in front of her. "Please tell Detective Sanchez that I am very grateful for his help," she finally instructed, her voice thick with suppressed emotion. She was not used to people taking care of her.

"I will," Andy replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I'm sure he'll like to hear that."

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as they stood in the hallway, still in their shoes and jackets, before Sharon remembered her manners.

"I'm sorry, Andy. Please make yourself comfortable." She indicated the sofa with one arm while draping her coat over the rack with the other. "If you don't mind, I will quickly get changed. It will only take a minute."

She seemed hesitant, frowning slightly as she said the words. Andy suspected that she felt she was being impolite to abandon him in her home like that, but she had been wearing that same outfit all day. It was the kind of formal clothing he remembered having to wear every Sunday morning when his family had gone to mass. He also recalled the joy he felt every time he was allowed to exchange it for his casual jeans and t-shirts afterwards. Her desire to get out of the uncomfortable looking costume was more than understandable.

"Sure, go ahead," he reassured her with a smile. Then he gave the television set a quick, longing look, pondering for a second whether he should ask the question that had just occurred to him.

"Would you mind if I took a quick look at the score?" He nodded towards the TV, tugging at his ear nervously. "The Giants are playing right now," he added.

Her wide, excited grin was unexpected, and he blinked at her, clearly confused by her reaction.

"Oh no, of course not. Go ahead. I will be right with you."

She practically bounced down the hallway, leaving him behind, shaking his head as he turned around to survey the living room, trying to locate the remote control. As he had already noticed earlier, the space, just like the rest of the condo, was very organized and uncluttered. Even such an essential item as the remote for the television was not laying around anywhere. He squinted at his surroundings, imagining where she might have put it. Deciding to open one of the drawers in her coffee table, a triumphant "Ha!" escaped him, as he laid eyes on the desired item.

Retrieving the remote and sliding the drawer back into place, he sank into the soft cushions of the brown sofa and turned the television on. It took him a moment to find the right channel, and when he did, he slumped back against the pillows behind him and groaned in frustration. The second quarter was already running and the Giants were behind by 10.

His annoyance evaporated a moment later, however, when Sharon dropped down on the other end of the couch, holding a bottle of sparkling water out to him.

"I will get us something real during halftime," she informed him, her gaze already fixed on the screen in front of them.

Andy still stared at her. She was clad in black leggings and a very large blue and neon green Seahawks jersey. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and she had folded her legs underneath her, bare feet with bright red nails drawing his gaze to the space between them.

It was her loud moan that made him focus on the game again just in time to witness the first touchdown for the Giants.

 **~TBC~**


	4. Chapter 4

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 4**

Sharon Raydor was a football fan. Not one of those casual fans who watched a game when they had time, but did not mind if they missed it. She was truly passionate about it, and Andy found that irresistible. She yelled at the players and the officials, she jumped to her feet or bounced in her seat when she was excited, and when the officials made a really bad call, she even threw a pillow at the screen. When he laughed at her unexpected action, she blushed and buried her face in her hands, but only for a moment, until the excited voices of the commentators drew her attention back to the screen.

It took him a little longer to focus on the game once again. He found himself frequently looking at her instead of the TV, completely captivated by this unfamiliar side of her, by her sparkling eyes, her expressive face, the way she gesticulated wildly or screamed into a pillow. She was absolutely unguarded, entirely free of pretense. He had never seen anything as sexy as that before in his life.

Earlier that day, Andy had reflected on his developing feelings of friendship for Sharon. He had admired her intellect, her humor, and yes, her looks. After watching several hours of football with her, he was a goner, though.

Once the first game was over, she congratulated him on his team's win somewhat reluctantly, prompting him to gloat a little, mostly in jest. She slapped his arm playfully, laughing at his antics. "You know," she said, still grinning, "If you want to see how the professionals do it, you could stay to watch the Seahawks beat the Cardinals with me."

Despite the lingering humor, she sounded a little hesitant. There was no reason whatsoever for her to be uncertain, though. Andy was delighted to stay, even if a very faint voice inside his head tried to caution him against getting too close to her. He was aware that her interest in him was vastly different from his interest in her. If he did not watch himself, he would end up getting hurt, and that was a situation he had very skillfully avoided since his divorce. And yet, he did not think twice before he agreed to her suggestion.

"That sounds like a plan. I'll hold the box of tissues for you when the Hawks lose," he offered. His wink did little to save him from her mock outrage.

"We will see about that," she warned him with a glare. "And just for that comment, you get to order the pizza."

Rising in one fluid motion, Sharon grabbed the phone from the coffee table where she had placed it earlier and tossed it to him, before she walked into the kitchen to fetch a menu. "I don't like sausage," she added as she handed him the flyer she had retrieved from one of the drawers.

He took it, tugging on it with a little more force when she did not let go immediately. "Good. Neither do I," he replied. Technically, he should not eat pizza at all, especially after the stern talking to he had gotten from his perpetually yelling doctor after his last stay at the hospital. That was a fact he decided not to share with Sharon, however. There were enough reasons for her not to be too keen on dating him. He did not intend to add his age and somewhat precarious health to that. Besides, one shared pizza would not kill him.

Their dinner arrived just in time for kickoff, and, against her usual policy, they settled down on the sofa, the pizza on the table in front of them. Sharon was pleased to see that he had ordered her favorite veggie delight on whole wheat crust, a choice she had not expected from a guy like him.

They munched in companionable silence, their shoulders and arms touching occasionally as they reached for a fresh slice. The game was slow to start, making her groan with every missed opportunity for her team. When Sharon was done eating, she folded her legs underneath her body once again, her thighs brushing against Andy's. It was a nice feeling to share this space with him, and she found herself relaxing more and more.

Since Andy had no particular preference between the Seahawks and the Cardinals, he was happy to cheer for her team; or to console her when they did not do well. He had been surprised the first time she hugged his upper arm and buried her face in his sleeve. After that, he simply enjoyed having her close, feeling her soft breasts press against his arm, smelling the delicate floral scent of her shampoo. It happened more and more frequently as the game dragged on into overtime and still ended with a tie.

"So, that's how the professionals do it?" he asked as they watched the players walk off the field, shaking hands and slapping each other's backs. "Good defense, though," he added quickly when she glared at him over the rim of her glasses.

"You know, I was thinking about letting you stay until it stops raining, but I might change my mind if you keep talking like that." Her tone was a little too friendly, almost sweet, and he took that as the warning it was supposed to be. His hands went up in surrender, and he gave her what some people called his puppy dog look.

"Okay, you're right. I didn't say a thing."

Narrowing her eyes, she held his gaze for a little while longer before she let her features relax into a smile. "Fine, you can stay," she relented, then she suddenly sobered. "That is, if you even want to."

He looked over her shoulder, taking in the scene on the other side of her large floor-to-ceiling windows. It appeared practically apocalyptic, rain coming down heavily, the strong wind blowing it almost vertically. Even though it was already dark, he could see the dark clouds hanging low in the sky. It was not a pleasant thought to drive through that weather, especially with all those crazy people out there who forgot how to drive as soon as the first drops of rain appeared.

"Are you sure you're not tired of me yet?" he asked, wanting to make sure he was not imposing upon her.

"Don't be ridiculous," she admonished, then she paused, giving him an almost shy look as she admitted that her reason for asking him to stay were not entirely selfless. "To be honest, it's nice not to be alone right now. The place can be very quiet sometimes."

He got it. Living alone had a lot of perks. No one to complain about what is on the TV, no discussions about food choices or bedtime or chores, no one to nag you about long working hours. It was nice to have peace and quiet, but sometimes it got to be a little too much, left too much space for troubling thoughts. He had been there many times over the years, once he had stopped quieting his mind with booze.

"In that case I'd love to stay. There's nothing but a pile of laundry waiting for me at home, and I'm pretty sure that will still be there later."

They both laughed, only too familiar with ever-present housework. Sharon rose from her seat and collected their plates and the pizza box, making sure to brush all the crumbs off the table and into her hand. "Why don't you find us a movie to watch while I see if I can come up with something to snack on?" she suggested, and Andy nodded, reaching for the remote control on the other end of the couch.

"Do you have any preferences?" He was already zapping through the channels, once again astonished by the amount of crap people apparently were willing to watch.

Sharon stopped on her way into the kitchen to look at the rapidly changing programs. "Not really. Nothing too brutal, if you don't mind." With that, she left him to his search and went to take care of their snack. After the greasy pizza they had eaten earlier, she was craving something fresh and healthy, and she hoped Andy would not mind.

When she returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray laden with an assortment of different vegetables cut into neat sticks, a large pot of steaming tea, and two cups, Andy had decided on an old Hollywood movie. She set the tray down on the coffee table and sank back into the seat she had vacated a little while ago. Before she had even had a chance to settle in, Andy was already pouring them each a cup of tea, handing one to her when he was done.

It turned out that TCM was broadcasting a Katharine Hepburn marathon and they had stumbled right into that. _Holiday_ was almost over when they tuned in, but it was followed by _Desk Set_ and _State of the Union_ , both of which they ended up watching, while munching on carrot sticks and celery, and sipping their tea.

Evening had turned into night by the time they switched off the TV. Neither one of them had paid any attention to the time while they enjoyed the program and the company, chatting about their shared interest in old movies. It was well past midnight, and it was still raining just as heavily as it had earlier. Sharon had noticed Andy almost nod off a few times towards the end of the last film, and she felt bad about letting him drive all the way to Valencia in such a tired state.

They both got up, and Sharon unsuccessfully tried to convince him to leave the dishes for her to deal with, but he just waved her off, carrying the tray into the kitchen and leaving it on the counter next to the sink before he headed for the door. She followed him reluctantly, still struggling with the idea of him driving through the pouring rain at that time of night.

When he reached the coat rack, Andy turned toward her, awkwardly tugging at his earlobe as he tried to figure out how to end what ended up being a very pleasant day. It was not a date, even though it sort of felt like one, so kissing her would be inappropriate. Hugging her seemed like a better idea, but maybe still a little too forward. Shaking her hand would be completely ridiculous and almost more awkward than simply walking out of the door without a word. It did not help that he could barely keep his eyes open. His mind was occupied solely with thoughts of sleep, and the idea of more than forty minutes on the road made his tired bones protest.

Sharon seemed just as much at a loss as he was, her fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt. "I had a really good time today, despite everything," she finally stated, taking a step closer, but still keeping just outside his personal space. "Thank you for keeping me company."

He reached out to brush his hand over her arm in a brief caress. "You're welcome. I had a great time, as well. Maybe we can do this again sometime. Without the dramatic beginning, of course." His grin and wink were interrupted by a yawn that he only just managed to cover with his hand. "I'd better get going now before I fall asleep on your doorstep," he added once he was able to speak again.

Sharon frowned at him, barely thinking about her next words before she uttered them. "You should stay."

At his startled look, her eyes widened as she realized how that had come across. "I mean, it is late and you are tired. You probably shouldn't be driving anymore."

He still stared at her, his brows drawn together slightly as he seemed to try and figure out what she was saying. Closing her eyes for a moment, she silently berated herself for the clumsy way she had started that. "What I mean is that I have a guest room, and that you are welcome to use it."

She sounded slightly exasperated, and he could not blame her. Their situation was a little awkward and so full of possibilities that it was easy for a completely innocent statement to seem full of innuendo. Usually, he would have countered her offer with a smart mouthed retort, but he was too tired to play games, and maybe a part of him did not want this to be a game at all. He was still pondering her offer, trying to decide if it would be a good idea to take her up on it. It was tempting, but they were only starting to get to know one another. The last thing he wanted was to push his luck with her. He doubted that they would ever be more than friends, but that was something he did not want to ruin.

"Please," she prodded when he had been quiet for too long, "I would feel much better if I didn't have to worry about you falling asleep behind the wheel."

Her insistence gave him the final push, and his back and neck twitched in anticipation. "Yeah, okay. You're probably right. I am pretty tired."

For a few beats, they remained standing at the door, awkwardly staring at one another, before Sharon jumped into action and guided him down the hallway to show him the guest room and the bathroom. She provided him with a set of fresh towels and a brand new toothbrush that she kept around in case her kids forgot theirs when they visited.

Once he was equipped with everything he needed, they quickly said goodnight, Sharon leaning against the doorframe, on her way out of the bathroom, while Andy stood at the sink, unwrapping his toothbrush. He thanked her once again for her hospitality, which she waved off. She really did not mind.

Closing the door between the bathroom and her bedroom, Sharon leaned her back against it for a moment. On the other side, she heard Andy going through his nightly routine, and it sent a thrill through her that she dared not explore any further. Even though the presence of another person across the hall made her feel a little safer, she doubted that she would get a lot of sleep, if for entirely different reasons this time.

* * *

Andy was not sure what had woken him up, but he was thirsty, and trying to ignore it didn't work. He got up and quietly left the guest room, padding down the hallway towards the kitchen in order to find a glass of water. It was not entirely dark, and at first, Andy thought that Sharon had left a small light burning for his benefit. That was until he almost had a heart attack when there was movement in one of the orange armchairs in the living room.

The light did not quite reach her where she sat staring out into the night through the large windows. If she had heard him coming down the hallway, she did not show it. Pausing before rounding the corner into the kitchen, Andy studied her for a moment. She wore what looked like a cream colored cashmere robe over her night clothes. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, appearing much darker than he knew it to be in the sparse light. The part of her face that he could see was cast in shadows, making it impossible for him to see her expression, but from the slumped shoulders and the way she was hugging herself, he figured that she was deeply troubled. It was not surprising, given the events of the day and the past few weeks. He wondered how many nights she had sat up, staring into the night, since all of that had started. For a moment, he debated whether he should approach her or quietly retreat to his room, but in the end, he could not simply leave her there, suffering alone.

Clearing his throat to alert her to his presence, he slowly approached her, waiting for her to look at him. Her red-rimmed, glistening eyes were the final deciding factor, and he walked over to the chair beside her and quietly sat down.

They sat in silence for many minutes. Occasionally, Sharon dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue she clutched in her hand. The faint noise of LA traffic and her quiet, shaky breaths were the only sounds that filled the room. When he was sure that she had regained control over her emotions again, Andy finally broke the silence, his words soft, and his eyes still focused on the twinkling city lights.

"Did you get any sleep at all?"

Sharon sighed, briefly considering lying. His concern was sweet, but she had a hard time figuring out how to deal with it. Her head was already spinning with everything that was going on, with all the thoughts she was unable to silence, even just long enough to fall asleep. Her confusing feelings for Andy were only adding to that. She had enjoyed his company earlier that night, welcomed the distraction he provided, but what did it mean that she felt so comfortable leaning on a person she hardly knew? She was not accustomed to that feeling, to another person simply being there without expecting anything in return. What was it that Andy expected? Or was he truly that selfless?

When she did not answer, his gaze shifted towards her as he waited. Sighing once again, she shook her head, quickly glancing at him before she looked straight ahead once more. "No, I didn't," she replied in a whisper, her voice still thick from crying.

He nodded, having suspected as much. "When was the last time you actually got a full night's sleep?" It was not something he would ever tell her, but the dark shadows underneath her eyes, her drawn look and the way she held herself, her shoulders and neck clearly tense and aching, spoke of many nights spent sitting in that chair instead of her bed.

Sharon shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't know. It's been a while," she admitted, as she rose from her seat and walked over to the large window. The pillow she had been hugging was left behind, and instead she tightened the sash of her robe before she wrapped her arms around herself. She watched Andy's reflection in the glass as he followed her.

His own back ached in sympathy as he observed her, moving uncharacteristically slowly, her shoulders hunched slightly, and her back stiff. He walked up behind her, his eyes on the reflection of hers to judge her reaction as he placed gentle hands on her shoulders. He let them rest there for a few seconds, waiting for her to object. When she stayed silent, he began pressing his fingers into her tight muscles firmly, working out the knots he found there one by one. Gradually, she surrendered to his touch, letting her eyes close and her head tilt forward to give him better access.

His hands were warm, a pleasant contrast to the persistent chill she had been feeling all night, his fingers relentlessly digging into her flesh. The pain his ministrations cause was followed by instant relief as her tension slowly but surely melted away. She almost whimpered when his fingers moved into her thick hair, nails gently scraping along her scalp as he gathered the long tresses to move them to the side. Then he focused on the back of her neck, and Sharon thought her knees would buckle.

The reason Sharon almost exclusively wore her hair down, especially at work, was the fact that it served as protection, effectively shielding the most sensitive part of her body from the elements and the people around her. Andy had stripped her of that protection. His slightly calloused fingertips glided over her exposed skin, drawing a long moan from her, and prompting her to lower her head even more.

He paused for a beat at her moan, startled by her visceral reaction to such a light touch. A shiver went though her, shaking her entire body, and he felt her skin erupt in goosebumps. It did not take him long to perceive the subtle changes; the sudden heat beneath his hands, the way she leaned back ever so slightly, her deepened breaths, and the fluttering of her rapid pulse. Andy could have resumed his massage of her shoulders, he could have stepped away from her under some kind of pretext, and he knew that she would have accepted it without question, would probably have welcomed it. Instead, out of some sort of morbid curiosity and for other reasons he dared not contemplate, he continued what he was doing.

When his fingers stopped their journey down her neck, she was caught between relief and disappointment, assuming he had correctly interpreted her reaction and decided to move away from that part of her body. The reprieve did not last long, however. He caressed her overly sensitive skin, pressing his fingers along the muscles right up to her skull and back down to her shoulders. The next moment, his fingernails scraped along the same path, paying special attention to that magic spot right below her hairline. Her body's response was instant. She gasped, her eyes opening wide, as desire shot through her veins like electric shocks, starting a raging fire deep in her core.

She was unable to remember the last time she had reacted like that to the touch of another. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since anyone had tried to coax a reaction like that from her. The last time she had allowed Jack into her bed was years ago and nothing to write home about. After that, she simply had not been interested enough to go to the trouble of finding someone she wanted to be that close to. That was until the moment Andy Flynn discovered the key to her dormant desire.

Her entire being felt suddenly alive and vibrant with energy, every single nerve ending seemingly focused on that small patch of skin. He was playing her body expertly, and she wondered if he was aware of how ready she was to completely surrender to him. If he asked her at that moment to take him to her bed, she would not hesitate, she realized. It was a disturbing thought, so unlike her to consider such reckless behavior, and she wondered where it had come from. Was she this shaken by recent events that she would throw herself at any man who happened to show her some kindness? Was she that starved for affection, that desperate?

He would be lying if he claimed that her reaction did not affect him. Was she even aware of the small moans and sighs his touch coaxed from her? His own heartbeat and breathing accelerated in response to hers, his pants growing more and more confining with the first stirrings of his arousal. The enticing scents of her shampoo and perfume drew him closer, and his lips tingled with the need to plant soft kisses on the delicate skin behind her ear. He was close enough to feel the heat of her body against his, a few unruly hairs tickling his face, when she stiffened slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but something had changed within her. She did not pull away, nor did she indicate in any other way that she wanted him to back off, but he could sense her hesitation, and he slowly leaned back. His hands returned to the relative safety of her shoulders and he gently turned her around to face him.

Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly parted. Her hands rested against his chest, whether to push him away or be closer to him, he did not know. From the wide-eyed look she gave him, neither did she. For a split second his ego congratulated him for managing to turn her on this rapidly and thoroughly, but he ignored his male pride. She was clearly not completely comfortable with what was happening, and while he might have a certain reputation, he was not an asshole. Andy knew that he would probably be able to seduce her at that moment, that she would let him kiss her and touch more than just her neck, but as tempting as that was, he did not do it. Instead, he gave her shoulders a slight tug until she stepped closer.

The moment she looked up at his face, she knew that he wanted her. His heart was thumping away under her palm as he stared at her lips. For the longest time, he simply studied her face, tension zapping between them, thick enough to cut with a knife. Then he pulled her towards him, and she was sure that he was going to kiss her. Her breath caught in her throat, and her body tensed even further. Did she want this? Was it a good idea? Would it end with a kiss or would he push her further? Her mind was awhirl with questions she was unable to answer.

He did not kiss her. He drew her close, one hand on her back, the other cupping the back on her head, and suddenly she was surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Gradually, she slipped her arms around him, allowing herself to accept the comfort he was offering. He smelled of sleeping man, laundry detergent and the faint hints of some spicy cologne, and she discretely turned her nose into his chest to inhale more of his scent. It was soothing, yet, at the same time, intensely arousing, a sensation she obviously shared with him as evidenced by the slight pressure against her belly.

They stood like that for a long time, her head resting on his chest, his t-shirt clutched in her firm grip, while he held her gently, fingers combing through her hair, and a hand caressing her back in large, slow circles. His cheek rested against her temple, and at some point she felt him turn his head slightly, planting soft kisses against the side of her head.

She was not able to pinpoint the moment she had made the decision, but one moment she enjoyed the calming embrace of a friend, and the next her hands reached up to slip seeking fingers into his hair and pull his head down. Their lips crashed together, hands clutching in an attempt to get closer to the other person. There was nothing tentative or shy about their first kiss. It was heated and passionate, hungry and desperate.

Her sudden move caught him by surprise, but Andy caught up quickly, deciding to let her lead, but not trailing far behind. She tasted of peppermint tea and tears, her tongue insistent, demanding access to his mouth. He groaned into their kiss as their tongues circled and explored, his hips slowly rocking back and forth, mirroring Sharon's rhythm.

He let his hands trail up and down her sides, playfully counting her ribs, and drawing a breathy sigh from her when he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs, almost, but not quite, reaching her nipples.

It was close to impossible to think with the way she devoured him, but the last bit of sense made him pull out of their kiss, resting his forehead against hers to catch his breath. "Sharon, are you sure this is a good idea?" He had no clue what made him ask that question. He never had before, but the thing was that he cared about Sharon in a way he had not cared about a woman in a long time. He had no wish to hurt her or to take advantage of her vulnerability.

She took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at him, her gaze still dark with desire. Cupping his face in her hands, she stared at him for a long time, before she moved towards him until her lips were so close to his, he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Her features blurred in front of him, but he saw a single tear slide down her cheek before she closed her eyes.

"No," she replied on a husky whisper, "but I don't want to think tonight." The touch of her lips on his was so faint he almost doubted it was real. Then she moved her head back slightly to look at him with pleading eyes.

"Please help me forget, Andy."

 **~TBC~**


	5. Chapter 5

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 5**

When Sharon woke up the next morning, it was to the unfamiliar comfort of a warm body spooning her. There was no surprise or panic as she drifted towards consciousness. Her first instinct was to snuggle even closer to the man behind her, to weave her finger through his where they rested on her bare stomach. In that place in between worlds, it seemed so natural to turn around and find his mouth, to seek out those lips that had given her so much pleasure a few hours earlier, and to recreate the moments of bliss they had found with one another the night before.

With every passing heartbeat, the fog of sleep receded, and with increased clarity came the doubts, the shame, the realization that she had done something incredibly stupid, even if it had felt fantastic at the time. There would be consequences to what they had done. It had been impulsive and completely against her nature. They were barely friends, their relationship entirely uncertain, undefined. She did not know what she wanted it to be, either, nor what Andy thought it was.

Sharon was a cautious person. She deliberated every choice thoroughly. She was not in the habit of making rash decisions, and she most certainly did not let her fears and insecurities guide her actions. Yet, that was what had happened the night before. He had caught her at her most vulnerable, at night, when nothing held her troubling thoughts at bay, when her overly busy mind kept her from finding any peace. She was tired and frustrated and unsure of how to proceed as her comfortable retirement job became more and more unbearable. Andy had been a welcome distraction, first as a friend and later, when the stillness of the night became too much to take, he had offered a different way of silencing her mind.

Needing some time alone to think, she carefully extracted herself from his embrace and slid out of bed, trying her best not to wake him. She would not be able to avoid the awkward confrontation that would undoubtedly occur at some point that morning, but she hoped to postponed it for a little while longer. Quietly sneaking into the bathroom, Sharon sighed in relief when she was still able to hear Andy's soft snores behind her. It was early, way before her alarm was supposed to go off, giving her plenty of time to figure out what she wanted to do, what she wanted all of it to mean.

She walked towards the shower and turned on the water, stepping under the spray as soon as it was warm enough. Closing her eyes, she tilted back her head and let the water cascade down her body, washing away the evidence of her reckless actions. She reached over to the small rack in the corner of her shower, blindly grabbing her body wash and pouring a generous amount into her hand, before she replaced the bottle and, stepping out from under the steady stream of water, let her hands glide over her body.

She hissed quietly as she passed over her breasts, her nipples still red and sensitive from the attention Andy had given them. Her touch lingered there, thumbs moving back and forth over the hard nubs, as she enjoyed the sensation.

 _They barely made it to her bedroom, her robe and his t-shirt left behind somewhere in the hallway. He slipped the thin straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and watched, mesmerized, as it fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her exposed to his gaze. She did not give him more than a heartbeat to take in the sight before him, or as much of it as the dim light shining through the window allowed him to see. Tugging his pants and briefs down in one quick motion, she stepped right back into the circle of his arms, enjoying the heat of his bare skin on hers and the pressure of his arousal against her abdomen._

 _He walked her backwards until they reached the side of the bed, giving her a gentle push until she sat down, spreading her legs slightly to make room for him. Andy sank to his knees in front of her, effectively preventing her from exploring his mouthwatering erection that had been eagerly bobbing up and down right in front of her face. Her disappointment was short lived, however, as his lips trailed tender kisses along her jaw and down her throat, his hands skimming over her sides before they gently cupped her breasts. She moaned, much louder than she had intended, pushing the soft mounds towards him, urging him to continue. He seemed happy to comply, kneading her supple flesh, rolling her nipples between his fingers, while he kissed his way across her chest, nibbling at her collar bone before he moved farther down. His mouth replaced one of his hands, suckling and licking, taking his cues from her sighs and moans._

 _He was too gentle at first. It was not what she needed, and he seemed to catch onto that when her nails dug into his scalp, pulling him closer. She heard his grunt, muffled against her chest. It was followed by his teeth sinking into the skin around her left nipple. He tugged it towards him, looking up at her as he did so, daring her to protest. She let her head fall back, her eyes closing as she whimpered, her body shuddering in reaction. The pain went straight to her core, stoking the fire that burned brightly deep within her. She was more than ready for him, her folds already wet and swollen, begging for his touch, but he was not done with her breasts yet. Switching from one to the other and back, he spent endless minutes biting, pinching, and tugging until the pain was almost overwhelming, then he soothed the abused flesh with gentle caresses and kisses, and with soft strokes of his tongue. She was almost out of her mind with desire by the time he moved his attention farther down her body._

Never before had anyone gotten her that worked up just by touching her breasts. She had asked him to make her forget the things that kept her awake, and he had done exactly that. Sharon was not a passive lover, never had been. She liked giving pleasure at least as much as she liked receiving it, but Andy had been intent on spoiling her. It surprised her, given their heated kisses and the desire she had seen in his eyes. And yet, he had held back, had ignored his own evident need in order to satisfy hers. He had most certainly done that, and more than once.

Her body was pleasantly sore, muscles she had not felt in years protesting at her every move. As she washed between her legs, getting rid of the lingering traces of their joining, she discovered another place that was hurting pleasantly. She should have known that Andy's mouth was not just good at getting him into trouble. The man was relentless. Her hand lingered a moment, cupping her mound as she closed her eyes, smiling at the memory of his tireless effort to bring her pleasure.

 _His fingers glided over her stomach, making it flutter at the light touch. He circled her navel a few times, his_ _nails_ _scratching her skin with just the lightest touch before he moved on. Sharon leaned back, her underarms resting on the soft mattress behind her. She held her breath as he drew closer to where she needed him, only to groan when he moved down her legs instead, tickling the soft skin at the back of her knees and spending entirely too much time massaging her feet. At any other time, she would have given anything for a good foot rub, but at that moment, she needed his touch elsewhere. He almost got her to beg, the sounds he drew from her growing more and more frustrated, when he finally relented._

 _His journey up her legs was painfully slow, as he kissed and licked and nipped at every inch of skin he was able to reach. Then he pushed her knees further apart, opening her to his intense gaze and the cool air surrounding them. She felt exposed and vulnerable, the urge to cover herself growing stronger with every second. In the dim light, his eyes were almost black, and they were fixed on her glistening folds. When he licked his lips and moved closer inch by agonizing inch, she almost came. He looked like a predator eying his prey, ready to devour it, and that was what he did. His mouth latched onto her swollen lips, sucking and nibbling at them, his tongue tirelessly moving along her folds, lapping up the moisture he found there. Her hips bucked against his face as pleasure shot through her like lightning. She was so close, but he avoided touching her clit, denying her that final push._

 _His fingers traced nonsensical patterns along her inner thigh, closer and closer to her center, before he finally slipped one long digit inside her. Her inner walls clamped around it, eager to hold it tight lest he remove it again. Instead, it was joined by a second one, gently stretching her tight channel as he moved them slowly along her slick walls. Then he flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue, and she flew over the edge. Her arms collapsed and she fell back, hitting the crumpled sheets behind her. Her hands moved into his hair, holding him in place as she rode out her orgasm._

 _He did not seem to be too eager to move away, his fingers motionless deep inside her, his licks slow and tender, no longer focused on the overly sensitive bundle of nerves. He allowed her to come down, to catch her breath, but when she gently tugged at his ears to draw him up to her, he shook his head, grinning wickedly from between her spread thighs. It was too much, she thought, as he latched onto her once more, his fingers starting up a lazy rhythm inside her, rotating, scissoring, retreating almost all the way, only to be thrust back in as far as they would go. He avoided her clitoris again, circling, but never quite touching._

 _She almost sobbed when he withdrew his fingers all the way, only to replace them with his tongue. He feasted on her juices, the sounds he made as he drank her in only adding to her excitement. A moment later, she froze, holding her breath as one moist fingertip moved between her cheeks, teasing, applying just enough pressure to make her heart skip a beat before he retreated._

Andy had worried her for a moment. She had never allowed anyone to go there. It had never held any appeal for her. Yet, for a split second, she had considered it, had been strangely excited by the idea. In the end, she had been relieved when he had moved on, and moments later, he had made her forget the incident altogether as he had attacked her with renewed vigor, pushing her over the edge once more.

It was her own moan, echoing in the tight confines of the shower, that drew her out of her memories. Snatching her hand out from between her thighs where it had begun to echo the remembered caresses, she hastily finished her shower, washing and conditioning her hair and rinsing her body, taking care not to let her touch linger anywhere. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a large towel around her body and tucking the ends in between her breasts. She took a smaller towel and twisted it around her head, confining her dripping hair with practiced ease, before she walked over to the vanity.

With the small, open tub of moisturizer in one hand and the rich cream covering the forefinger of her other hand, she paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror. There were still dark shadows under her eyes, and the lines around her eyes and mouth were deeper than she wanted to admit, but her skin had a healthy glow to it, more than what her morning shower usually caused. For the first time in weeks, if not longer, she actually liked what she saw. It was not as if she found herself unattractive or was overly critical when it came to her own appearance. She was aware that genetics had been kind to her, but it had been a while since she had last paid any special attention to her own reflection.

Despite the very short night and the stress she had been under for the last several weeks, Sharon felt refreshed, well rested, and maybe even a little giddy. As she massaged her flushed cheeks to work the lotion into her skin, her mind once again wandered back to the previous night and the reason for her strange mood. The mere memories of his touch made her tingle all over, the fire she had thought had burned out hours ago once again coming to life inside her. It made her wonder if, while possibly not the wisest idea, it would be worth exploring that thing between them further.

Andy woke up in a bed that was not his own, feeling disoriented for a brief moment. Then his nose detected the faint scent of a familiar perfume in the air surrounding him, and memories came flooding back. Before he even opened his eyes, he reached for the owner of the bed, but only found empty space, the sheets beside him cold and crumpled. Sliding over into her side of the bed in order to take a look at the alarm clock on her nightstand, he groaned as he saw the time. It was not even six o'clock in the morning. He sank into her pillow face first, drawing a deep breath, smiling as he recalled the reason for his lack of sleep.

 _Her scent was intoxicating, a mixture of soap and perfume on her warm skin, faded after a long day, and the heady smell of her arousal. He simply could not get enough of her, the way she tasted, salty and a little bitter, the sight of her, flushed and panting, a thin sheen of sweat making her skin glisten. Her head was thrown back, her chest thrust into the air as she moved against his mouth. She was impossibly wet, her sex red and swollen, so ready for him, completely open. He moved one of her long, smooth legs over his shoulder to give him better access, her inner thigh pressed against his cheek._

 _Andy had always thought of Sharon Raydor as a little uptight. When their paths had crossed at work, she had always been all about the rules, about proper conduct and decorum. Many an officer had joked over the years that she needed to get laid more, and those that had known her husband had often expressed their sympathy for the poor man. To see her giving herself over to him so completely, to watch her selfishly seek her own pleasure, coming apart under his mouth with a loud groan, all that absolutely blew his mind._

 _He knew that she wanted to take control, that she wanted to explore his body. He saw her look at him hungrily when he stood in front of her. The mere thought of feeling her lips around him, the moist heat of her mouth surrounding him, almost ended it before it even started. He wished that he could give her the kind of control that she was currently missing in her life, but his desire to make her enjoy herself was even greater, and that would not happen if he came all over her face, as tempting as that idea might be._

 _Instead he made_ her _come all over_ his _face, feasting on the abundant evidence of her pleasure. He realized that he could easily become addicted to her, to the sight of her writhing and bucking and whimpering, to her erotic taste and the feeling of her tight walls pulsing around his fingers. He wanted to draw it out, to see her lose control once more, so he resisted when she tried to pull him up. Instead, he renewed his efforts, his own painful arousal a small price to pay to see her lose control once again._

 _It was a silly impulse that made him do it, and when his fingertip brushed against her back entrance, wet enough to slide past the tight ring of muscles effortlessly, should he try, he wondered what she would do. She tensed immediately, and he got the feeling that she had either not done that before or her previous experiences had been bad. Either way, Andy was unwilling to ruin the night for them by pushing her too far. She clearly was uncomfortable with the idea, and that alone was reason enough for him to discard it, even if she might have let him get away with it, and even if he kind of liked the idea of getting her to surrender to him so completely._

 _He made her fall apart under his mouth once more, before he finally moved onto the bed alongside her. They shifted around a little until he lay on his back, looking up at her. He willingly gave up control to her now that he had made sure she enjoyed herself. He still hoped to be able to keep it together long enough to not embarrass himself, but as he saw her straddling him, her wet sex sliding along his cock where it still rested against his stomach, her full, round breasts swaying slightly, her hair cascading in wild curls down her back, he did not like his odds. She was breathtaking. Her small hands stroked his chest, fingers playing with the salt and pepper curls that covered it._

 _He let his own hands glide up and down her sides, caressing her breasts and her back, pulling her down to cover his entire body with her slight weight. He placed a kiss against the corner of her mouth, intending to move along her jaw towards her ear, but she turned her head to capture his lips. They were still sticky with her juices, just as his chin and cheeks, and he was surprised when she kissed him eagerly, her tongue sliding along his lips before it teased them apart. She moaned into his mouth, seeking out his own tongue, greedy for every last trace of her taste._

 _She was going to be the death of him, he was convinced of that. Even more so when she broke their kiss and shifted a little, one hand curling around his length. She positioned him against her opening and then slowly lowered herself, taking him into her heat inch by inch. She was so tight, the feeling of her walls reluctantly adjusting to his size almost was his undoing. She hissed in pain, pausing briefly, her eyes closed as she breathed through the discomfort. Holding still when all he wanted was to thrust into her hard and fast was close to impossible, but he did, and he was rewarded for his patience._

 _Maybe that was what heaven felt like, Andy thought when he was surrounded by her completely. Her eyes held his as she leaned back, placing her hands on his thighs, and started to gently rock her hips. His hands t_ _raveled_ _up the smooth skin of her thighs until they found her hips. He held onto her, picking up the rhythm she set with his own motions. Sharon clenched her muscles around him deliberately, a devilish grin on her lips when he groaned. He wished it would last forever, that he would never have to leave this place underneath her, but he felt the end drawing closer and closer. Her tempo increased as she ground herself against him, moaning every time she sank down on his length._

" _Touch yourself,_ _"_ _he instructed, watching, mesmerized, when she lifted one hand to her mouth and lazily sucked on two fingers before she slowly trailed them down her body. He followed their path until they reached their goal between her legs, brushing against him before they settled on her clit. The sight alone was almost enough to get him off, but when her motions became even more frantic and her quiet moans turned into louder groans, he tightened his hold on her hips and met her thrust for hard thrust, his voice joining hers when he felt her inner walls starting to contract around him. He was right behind her slamming his hips into hers one more time before his world fell apart._

 _His heart was hammering inside his chest and his lungs burned. Their bodies were sticky with sweat and too hot, but he liked her weight on top of him too much to move. His softening length was still buried inside her, twitching occasionally in response to the sporadic spasms of her muscles. Their combined juices were slowly trickling out of her, creating a mess that neither one of them seemed to mind too much at that moment. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a long moment, both of them basking in the afterglow, relishing the silence that was only interrupted by their ragged breathing._

 _When he finally slipped out of her, Sharon whimpered a little before she shifted from where she had collapsed on top of him to find a spot next to him that would be more comfortable for both of them in the long run. Her head settled on his chest and she draped an arm and a leg over him, effectively trapping him. Not that he wanted to be anywhere else, but it stopped him from wondering if she expected him to get up and leave._

" _Oh God,_ _"_ _she eventually mumbled, her breath stirring his chest hair. Andy hummed in reply, coherent thought still beyond him. He blindly felt around behind him for the edge of the_ _comforter_ _he had pushed out of the way a little while ago, pulling on it until it covered both of them as much as he could manage without moving. Then he tugged Sharon a little closer and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. She sighed happily, wriggled against him until she found a comfortable spot, and drifted off to sleep. It only took him a few moments to follow her, long enough to sent a silent prayer to whomever might listen that this would not be a one time event._

Thinking about the previous night had a visible effect on him, and he forced himself to focus on something else. He had no idea where Sharon's head was this morning, and the last thing he wanted was to freak her out or give her the idea that he was only interested in having sex with her. Flopping onto his back, he closed his eyes and thought back to the one time he had seen Provenza in swim trunks. When the appalling mental image had taken care of his little problem, Andy fought off the tangled comforter and got out of bed, taking a moment to straighten the pillows, sheets and blanket into some semblance of order. Looking around the room, he located his briefs and pants, and put them on, before he ventured out into the hallway to find his t-shirt.

He grinned at the small trail they had left there the night before, as he shrugged into the shirt. Picking up her robe, which lay in a crumpled heap in the foyer, he made his way back to Sharon's bedroom, raising the soft, cream-colored cashmere to his nose before he draped it over the back of a chair. It smelled of her, something floral, mixed with traces of an expensive perfume and her own essence, and he wished he could get more of that scent directly from the source. That was another thought that would have to wait to be examined closer. Was he getting too attached? Was he setting himself up to be disappointed when he hoped that the last night was not simply born out of a need for distraction?

His pondering brought him nowhere, and as he stood in the middle of her bedroom, for the first time studying his surroundings without being distracted by its occupant, he suddenly had no idea what to do with himself. Did she expect him to be gone by the time she was done in the bathroom, or would she consider that to be rude? And where would it leave them if he simply walked out without a word? The shower in the other room had stopped running a little while ago, and Andy decided to stick around until she came out to see how she felt about things.

He only had to wait another couple of minutes, even though it felt a lot longer. The bathroom door opened quietly, and Sharon entered the bedroom wrapped in a large, white towel, her damp hair curling wildly around her face. Warm, moist air followed her into the room, smelling of jasmine and peach. Her eyes briefly flicked to the made bed before they settled on him, reflecting the uncertainty and awkwardness he felt. In an almost subconscious move, she adjusted the towel, pulling it a little higher where it came together between her breasts. It failed to hide the slight blush that darkened the skin there and rose up into her cheeks.

Andy took a moment to study her, realizing that it was the first time he had seen her without makeup, her skin freshly scrubbed and moisturized. The night before, it had been too dark to really see her features, the soft lines and imperfections she usually hid so skillfully. If anything, she was even more beautiful to him that way, a little softer, a little less imposing. In that moment, standing in her bedroom, bare-legged, her naked shoulders tense, with none of her familiar layers of protection in place, it was easy to imagine them like that more often, to wish for more mornings together, without barriers, without pretense.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a tender smile, hoping to break the strained mood. Her own smile seemed a little forced, the hand that was not clutching the towel in an iron grip tugging her hair behind her ear, lingering there for a moment as if she was tempted to cover her face, clearly uncomfortable with her appearance. Did she not know how lovely she looked, he wondered.

"Good morning," she responded after a little while. "Uhm, did you… I mean, if you want to take a shower, there are fresh towels and everything you might need." She waved a hand in the general direction of the bathroom she had just vacated, before she cast a cautious eye at the closet he was currently blocking.

His mind immediately came up with about half a dozen very good reasons for taking her up on her offer. Not one of them was the least bit practical, and they all gained the attention of other parts of his body. Firmly closing a mental door in the face of all those images, he shook his head, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to figure out how to get out of her hair without giving her the idea that he did not want to be there.

"Thanks, that's very nice of you to offer, but I have to drive home to change, anyway. Better get that done now while traffic isn't too crazy yet, but I didn't want to just disappear on you without saying goodbye."

Sharon nodded, her expression a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment. It gave him the courage to close the distance between them with a few slow steps, to reach out a tentative hand to caress her bare arm, watching carefully for her reaction. When she did not pull back, he let his touch linger, feeling her soft, warm skin against his palm.

"Last night was pretty amazing. I mean, not just last night, but all day. Maybe… I don't know, but maybe we could do that again sometime soon?" Andy was unable to remember it being so hard to ask a woman out. Maybe it was because he truly cared for Sharon. It was not simply about getting laid this time. It was about spending time with _her_ , and it was no longer just his male pride on the line if she said no.

Sharon had a hard time breathing. He was staring at her with those intense, brown eyes, so full of tenderness and desire. It made her feel self-conscious, but at the same time put her at ease about not being completely put together. She hated people seeing her like that. Even her children rarely got to lay eyes on her without at least some basic makeup these days. And yet, he gazed at her as if he wanted to devour her, and it made her insides flip pleasantly. It also made her nervous. Both his obvious interest in her and her own reaction to it were things she was not prepared to deal with at that moment.

"I enjoyed our time together, too," she started, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right way to tell him what was on her mind.

"But?"

"But there is a lot going on in my life right now." She place her palm on his chest, feeling his heart beat underneath it. Her gaze was fixed on the hypnotic rhythm her thumb created as it caressed him through the fabric of his t-shirt. "Having you here was wonderful, but I need to deal with this situation before I can focus on anything else. I do not want this," she tapped his chest with her fingers, "to happen for the wrong reasons."

Her gaze reluctantly met his, and she hoped he understood what she was saying, that she did not say _no_ , but _not yet_. When he smiled, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling happily, she finally relaxed, allowing him to pull her into a tight embrace.

"That's okay. We've got time. You go deal with that dirtbag, and if you need me to help you get rid of the body, I'm just a phone call away."

Laughter shook her hard enough to make her snort, and she buried her face in the folds of his shirt to hide the sound. She enjoyed the heat of his body against hers, inhaling his unique scent, stronger now than it had been the night before. His arms tightened around her, and they stood like that for a long moment, taking pleasure in their closeness.

When they finally drew apart, Andy gently kissed her forehead. Before he had a chance to step away from her, Sharon moved one hand to the back of his neck and drew him down, planting a lingering kiss on his lips, not quite passionate, but an unmistakable promise.

"Thank you, Andy," she whispered against his chin when she broke the kiss. With one last caress of her cheek, and one last smoldering look, Andy backed away from her, before he turned around and left.

Flopping down onto her bed, Sharon stared at the ceiling for several minutes, her lips still tingling from their kiss. In the distance, she heard Andy close the front door, the sound not as final as it could have been. There was another stressful week of fighting for her job ahead of her, but it suddenly did not appear all that daunting anymore. There was finally something to look forward to at the end of all this. With a happy smile on her face, Sharon rose and walked to her closet, full of an energy and determination she had not felt in weeks.

 **~TBC~**


	6. Chapter 6

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 6**

Sharon's excellent mood carried her through the first two and a half days at work. Her frequent smiles and good humor spread through her team like a wildfire, a welcome reprieve from the tense atmosphere of the past weeks. The fact that Sean was at a conference in New York definitely helped, even if it meant that the file Andy had given her still sat in her desk drawer. She had flipped through it several times, making sure she knew every detail, anticipating every possible way Sean might react to it. One thing was for sure, he would not like it.

Her plan was to confront him when he returned from his trip on Wednesday afternoon. She intended to do it as early as possible to make sure that her colleagues would still be around. While she did not expect him to hurt her, she had promised Andy she would be careful. Sean had already gone quite far in his attempts to get rid of her. There was no telling what he was capable of when he felt cornered.

When she finally got out of a seemingly endless client meeting, it was much later than she had anticipated. At almost half past six in the evening, everyone except the cleaning staff had already left. Jeff and her elderly secretary, who had stayed until after the meeting in case she needed anything, left as soon as it was over, and Sharon did not want to ask them to stay any longer. For a moment she considered postponing her talk with Sean until the next morning, but she was eager to get it over with.

Stopping at her desk to straighten it up for the night and pick up her things, she retrieved the folder from her desk drawer, locked her office and walked down the short hallway to the large corner office that her boss occupied. The desk in front of it was empty, which was not surprising, given the time. She was just about to walk to his closed door and knock, when it suddenly opened and she found herself face to face with the man she wanted talk to.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds, before Sean squared his shoulders, crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes at her. Sharon had to tilt her head back slightly to meet his forbidding gaze. Despite her heels, their height difference was significant, but it failed to intimidate her. Straightening herself slightly, she tightened the grip she had on her purse, reminding herself that it contained something that would knock a little of the arrogance out of him.

"What do you want? I'm on my way home," he barked, attempting to brush past her. Sharon stepped to the side to block his path, at the same time fishing the file out of her purse.

"I won't hold you up long, but there was something I wanted to talk to you about, and it cannot wait until tomorrow." Her tone was soft and quiet, designed to give him the impression that she was bowing to his superior power. She knew that men like him liked that, and it would be in her favor if he let his guard down a little bit.

With an exaggerated sigh, he slapped his briefcase onto his secretary's desk with a lot more force than necessary, before he turned to her with an impatient look. "Well, then get on with it. I don't have all night."

She rolled her eyes and put the folder on the table in front of them, opening it very deliberately while she began to tell him about her findings.

"You see, I have been having some problems lately. Someone keeps trying to intimidate me, and while I was perfectly fine with ignoring it, a friend of mine, who is with the LAPD, was not. These detectives are notoriously curious. They simply cannot leave a puzzle unsolved. So he made some discrete inquiries and found some very interesting things."

Sharon sounded as if she was telling him about the weather, all pleasant and smiling. It clearly confused Sean. His brows were drawn together as he stared at the papers she had yet to spread out for him to study. She did so slowly, one by one, carefully arranging them next to each other.

"It seems that there was some trouble for you in Louisville," she drawled, placing the first sheet in front of him. It was a police report, detailing the officers' response to a 911 call to the house of a Sean and Suzanne Spencer. It described how the officers had found Mrs. Spencer beaten so severely that she had to be taken to the hospital with a concussion, internal bleeding, and several broken bones.

"After seeing these pictures of your ex-wife," Sharon went on, revealing the three photos in question, "it is not surprising that your superiors were eager to send you on your way. Even after the case was dismissed in court." The next document was a stack of papers from the court.

"Wasn't it lucky for you that your ex-wife decided to drop the charges? I wonder what you promised her in return for her cooperation." She gave him a curious glance, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question, even though she did not expect an answer. His face was starting to flush with anger, his overly tanned skin darkening as he glared at the evidence she laid out for him.

"And then there was Claire Fox in Tucson." Another series of photos were placed on the table, showing another woman with cuts and bruises. "That one didn't even make it to trial before she dropped the charges against you. You are really good, Sean. I have to give you that."

His hands were curled into tight fists, and she could feel the rage coming off him in waves. It was time to wrap her little demonstration up before things got out of hand. "What I wanted to know was whether this was the reason you gave up that nice position you had in Tucson. So I made a call and asked a few questions. You know what people are like. They love to gossip. I had a very interesting conversation with Ms. Martin. She remembered you quite well."

Sharon was expecting it, but when his reaction came, she was still unprepared for his speed and strength. Before she was able to react, he grabbed her throat with one hand and her hair with the other, pulling her head back as he dragged her away from the desk and pushed her face first into the door. Her hands went out in front of her a split second before her face would have made contact with the hard surface. She expected her momentum to be stopped abruptly, but instead, the door swung open, making her stumble several steps into the dark office before she fell to the ground. The shock of the impact went through her arms and shoulders, and she bit the inside of her lip hard as she landed. The palms of her hands and her knees burned from scraping along the carpet, and she hissed in pain.

It had been a while since her last training session, but even after being retired from the LAPD she tried to keep her hand to hand combat skills fresh. It was pure instinct that had her roll over one shoulder and onto her back the moment she crashed into the ground.

He must have come right after her, because he was on top of her before she had even turned all the way. One of his hands went for her hair again, grabbing a handful and pulling her head up, only to smash it into the ground, making her see stars. She did not think. She barely noticed the pain. With a few deliberate moves, Sharon brought her legs up and managed to flip him onto his back. It only took another heartbeat to grab his right arm and turn him over. Pulling the arm behind him, she ignored his pained groan as she pushed one knee into his back, tugging the bent arm as far up as possible without dislocating his shoulder. Sean tried to struggle against her hold, but there was no point. Despite his superior height and strength, she had outmaneuvered him, using skill and experience against his brute force.

Leaning down until her lips were right next to his head, she put even more weight on the knee that was digging into him. "Don't ever try to touch me again," she hissed into his ear, her voice cold as ice. "Do you understand me?"

When he did not reply, she applied a little more pressure to his arm, making him scream before he nodded. She backed off just enough to give him some breathing room so that he would be able to focus on her next words.

"Good. Now here's what's going to happen. You will call off your friends and make sure I will not be bothered again. And then you will find a way to get over whatever problem you have with me. You will treat me with the utmost respect from now on or I will make you wish you had never set foot into this place. I can destroy you, and I _will_ destroy you if you so much as frown in my direction without a very good reason. Are we clear?"

Sean nodded once again, and, after another moment of holding him down, she slowly rose to her feet, her head spinning a little at the sudden change of position. Ignoring the unsettling feeling, she walked out of the room without a backward glance, stopping only long enough to gather the papers that were still spread out on the desk outside. Behind her, she heard Sean groan as he slowly got up off the ground, but she did not look at him. With the file once again securely tucked into her purse, Sharon walked down the long hallway towards the elevators, more than ready to put the day behind her. With every step, her legs started to feel more and more shaky and the pounding at the back of her head increased in intensity.

It was not until she had made it to her condo that she finally started to realize what had happened to her. The drive home was lost in a haze, leaving her with no clear memory of the last thirty minutes. She barely managed to unlock her door. Her hands were shaking, her vision was slightly blurry, and her head was pounding, making her feel dizzy and nauseous. She did not quite make it to the couch. Giving the door a push to close it, she dropped her purse and keys, missing the small table she was aiming for, as she lost her balance. Bracing one hand against the wall next to the door, she leaned over slightly, taking a few shallow breaths. Then she very slowly lowered herself to the ground, turning so that her back leaned against the wall. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

Sharon had no idea how much time had passed when she woke up again, nor did she know how she had ended up sitting on the floor in her foyer. Her head was pounding terribly, and she had trouble seeing clearly. It took her a moment to figure out what had woken her. The insistent buzzing and ringing of her cell phone, slightly muffled from inside her purse, made the headache even worse. Not daring to move her head too much, she hooked her right foot through one of the handles and managed to slide the purse close enough to get a hold of it. Blindly feeling around in the large bag, she finally found her phone, wincing as she tried to make out the caller ID. The display light was too bright. It hurt her eyes, and she was unable to focus on the letters enough to read them. Accepting the call, she held the device to her ear and attempted to ask who she was speaking to. She could not quite form the words, however, her tongue and lips feeling numb and clumsy, making her slur slightly.

"Hello? Whosis?"

"Sharon?" Andy sounded concerned, almost panicked when he heard her voice. "What happened? Are you okay."

She thought about his question for a moment. What happened? "Dunno," she finally admitted, not even sure why he would call to ask that.

"Can you tell me where you are?"

Blinking slowly, she wondered why that was relevant to him, but answered anyway. "Home."

There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line, then he spoke again "Okay, that's good. I want you to stay put. I'm on my way over to you. I'll put you on speaker phone, so keep talking to me. Can you do that?"

"mkay," she mumbled, even though she had no idea what she should talk about. She was so tired. Maybe she would just lay down for a moment. His voice was so relaxing, and her eyelids were so heavy. Just a minute, then she would talk.

Insistent banging was what woke her up. She jolted upright, gasping at the blinding pain that shot through her head and down her spine. It took her several seconds to get her bearings. She was dizzy and feeling sick to her stomach. With a few measured breaths, she was able to get the nausea under control enough to focus on the sound of someone's fists pounding on her door. It was getting louder, and it did little to help her headache. Reaching up behind her, she got hold of the door handle and pulled it down, not even bothering to check who was on the other side. All she wanted was for the unbearable noise to stop.

Andy had been concerned most of the day. He had spoken to Sharon on Monday night to ask how her talk with her boss had gone, only to learn that he would not be back in the office until Wednesday. So he had made her promise to call him after she had had a chance to show the dirtbag what they found out. Since Andy did not know when exactly she would talk to Spencer, he had been on pins and needles since he woke up. When he had not heard from her by seven thirty, he had tried calling her. It took three attempts to get her to answer, and when he had heard her weak voice, her words slurred, he had reached for his keys before she had even told him where she was. And then she had stopped talking altogether, almost driving him out of his mind with worry.

On the way over, he had been tempted several times to use lights and sirens to get to her faster. It was a good thing he had still been at work, awaiting her call, because the long drive from Valencia would have been too much for him. There was still plenty of time to think about what he might find when he reached Sharon's place. It was entirely possible that she had simply gotten drunk after a nasty confrontation with her boss, and while not good, it was the least worrying scenario he could come up with. It was also the least likely one. Somehow he had a hard time imagining Sharon getting so drunk that she would pass out. The alternative was much more concerning. Images of her bleeding and battered body crumpled on the floor were all too vivid in his mind, causing him to ignore the speed limit wherever he could.

When her door finally opened after he had banged his fists on it for close to a minute, it had been just in time to keep him from kicking it in. It took him a second to locate her where she sat propped up against the wall, and he was kneeling by her side in an instant. Her eyes were open, and she stared at him, confusion evident in her expression. Her gaze was a little unfocused, but she smiled when she recognized him.

"Andy," she greeted him happily, her voice a little stronger than it had been on the phone earlier. "What are you doing here? Did I forget that you were coming over?" He was relieved to hear that her speech was a lot less slurred, but her lack of recollection concerned him.

Taking hold of one of her hands, he gently caressed it, searching for a pulse to check while he spoke to her. "I called you half an hour ago. You sounded a little out of it, so I thought I'd drop by and see if you're okay."

She frowned, her eyes taking in her surroundings and landing on her phone at last. It still lay where she had dropped it earlier, the screen having gone dark. Very slowly, memories came back, one by one. Andy's voice in her ear. The overwhelming fatigue that had prompted her to close her eyes. Feeling sick and dizzy. Everything else was still lost in a haze.

"Can you tell me where you're hurt?" he asked, checking her over with his eyes as thoroughly as possible. At least there was no blood, and he could tell that she was definitely sober.

"It's my head. I must have hit it on something." She leaned forward a little and carefully touched the back of her head, wincing when she hit a sore spot.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, he gently let the fingers of his other slide through her thick hair until he encountered a large lump. The hair around it was dry and clean, showing no evidence of bleeding. That was one concern crossed off his list. Looking into her eyes, he was pleased to see that her gaze was more focused and she appeared more alert than a moment ago.

"Do you think you can get up?"

Sharon nodded, moaning quietly at the pain that caused. "Yes, I think so."

With a lot of assistance from him, she managed to get to her feet, holding on to him for a moment until her head stopped spinning.

"Come on, I'll drive you to the hospital," he offered, already bending down to pick up her purse.

"Andy, no. That won't be necessary. I'm already feeling a little better. I think I just want to get some sleep and put this day behind me."

The nausea was gone, and her vision had cleared. Her head still hurt, and she could already feel the rest of her body starting to ache from her struggle with Sean, but that was nothing a few aspirin and a little rest would not cure. Even her memories of the evening's events were beginning to return.

Andy gave her a skeptical look, holding her by her shoulders to study her closely. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. You should let a doctor look at that."

Of course he would not give up just like that. Sharon sighed. "Yes, I'm sure it is a concussion, but I've had worse. I'm not feeling nauseous or dizzy anymore, and I recall what happened. I'm going to be fine, I promise. All I need is sleep."

What she did not mention was that it had been many, many years since _she'd had worse_. She had been a lot younger and her body a lot more forgiving. Since there was nothing a doctor could do against sore muscles and a headache apart from telling her to take some over-the-counter pain medication, rest, and stay warm, she saw no reason to spend half the night in the emergency room. They would keep her waiting forever, and then they would do a lot of unnecessary tests only to confirm what she already knew. It would be nothing but a colossal waste of time and money.

He stared at her for a long moment, debating whether or not he should insist. In the end, he trusted her judgment. "Okay, but I have one condition." She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head to the side a little, clearly warning him to tread carefully. He went on regardless. "You let me stay in case you get worse over night."

The thought of her waking up and needing help with no one around was unacceptable to him. If she let him, he would sit in a chair next to her bed all night, but he doubted that she would be comfortable with that. He would settle for the guest room, or even the couch, as long as he was close by in case she needed him.

For a second, Sharon was ready to object, to send him home, but she realized that it was her stubborn independence speaking, and that he had a point. He was not trying to control or handle her. He was simply concerned about her wellbeing. It was something she would do for him as well, if their situations were reversed.

"All right," she finally conceded with an eye roll she regretted instantly. "Can I go to bed now, Dr. Flynn?"

Andy grunted at her joke, only partly amused, but he led her down the hallway and into her bedroom. He stood close by awkwardly when she collected her night clothes and excused herself for a moment, heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He was relieved to hear that she did not lock the door, and he listened closely to the sounds coming from the other room. It made him feel like a creep, but he was too afraid that she might faint or otherwise need his assistance to leave.

It only took her a few minutes to finish a very short version of her nightly routine, just long enough to get changed, wash her face, and brush her teeth. When she stepped back into her bedroom, she smiled at the way Andy stood at the foot of her bed, hands in his pockets, looking utterly uncomfortable. He stepped forward when she walked towards the bed and took the glass of water she had brought with her out of her hand, setting it on the nightstand before he helped her turn down the bed.

When she had climbed between the soft sheets, he tucked her in gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing her. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, caressing her forehead and cheek. She turned onto her side to take pressure off the sore back of her head, letting one hand rest on his thigh. Sleep was already tugging at her, her eyelids heavy. When Andy rose and planted a soft kiss into her hair, she grabbed hold of his hand before he had a chance to walk away.

"Where are you going," she asked, struggling to keep her eyes open.

Andy looked around briefly, gesturing towards the door with his free hand. "Um, the sofa." His answer sounded more like a question, and his uncertainty made her smile fondly. It was sweet of him not to assume, but she would really rather have him close, despite what they had decided only two days earlier. The comfort of his presence was more important to her at that moment than the idea of sensible distance, of waiting for the right time.

"Please stay."

She tugged on his hand, hoping he would give in without a long discussion. He seemed to be able to read her thoughts, because he nodded, letting go of her only long enough to strip down to his t-shirt and briefs. She scooted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him to join her. When he stretched out next to her, one arm extended invitingly, she placed her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him, one arm draped over him.

With a sigh, she relaxed into his embrace, allowing him to tug her close and bury his nose in her hair. Surrounded by his arms, his scent, his breath against her scalp, and the calming sound of his heart beating underneath her ear, Sharon finally found a moment to process the events of the day. With the realization of how close she had come to getting seriously hurt came the tears. It was not fear or pain that made her cry, however. It was anger at Sean for thinking that he would get away with intimidating her like that. It was a reaction to the stress and anxiety that had accumulated over the past weeks. It was the knowledge that, for once, she was not alone with all her burdens, that someone was right there with her, willing to lend a hand whenever she needed it.

Andy held her close, wordlessly stroking her back, his other hand clasping hers and holding it to his chest. He let her release all the tension. Only once the tears had stopped falling did he offer encouraging words, murmuring them into her ear, full of confidence and reassurance.

"You'll be okay."

There was still so much of this fight ahead of her, so much she had to figure out and take care of. She still needed to tell Andy what had happened with Sean. She needed to decide whether or not she wanted to press charges and what the professional repercussions would be for her. At that moment, safe in Andy's arms, it was easy to believe his words. The rest could wait a few more hours.

 **~TBC~**


	7. Chapter 7

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 7**

Andy sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen as if he could will the financial information he was waiting for to appear on it. The case was only a few hours old and it was already frustrating him. Their victim was a high class prostitute whose last client was their prime suspect. He was a famous movie star, which meant that the brass was on their asses about _treading lightly_. If anyone were to ask him, they were treading so lightly that they hardly moved at all, and it did little to improve his crappy mood.

The day had already started off badly with Mike calling him at the crack of dawn. He had been extremely comfortable with a warm, sleeping woman in his arms, and the thought of leaving her bed and forgo a chance of spending a little more time with her had made him snap at Tao when he had answered the phone.

His mind wandered back to that morning, when he had sat on the edge of Sharon's bed to say goodbye. She had been barely awake, her hair mussed and her voice deep and raspy. Upon his reluctance to leave her, she had reassured him that she was feeling better already and that she would take the day off to rest. They had very briefly discussed the previous night, and Andy had made her promise to tell him exactly how she had kicked Spencer's ass.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she had suggested that he could drop by later to check on her if their case permitted. Then she had kissed him. Not the soft peck on the cheek he had expected, but a deep, lingering kiss full of promise. It had made his head spin and given him even more reason for not wanting to leave, but with one last, short kiss and a promise to call her later to let her know whether or not he would make it, he had taken off to their crime scene in nearby Griffith Park.

The teasing had started when he had taken off his coat the moment he had set foot in the murder room after they were done at the scene. Julio had been the first to notice that he wore the same clothes as the day before, and he had not hesitated to point it out for everyone to hear. They had kept at it for a while, until he had yelled at them to mind their own damn business. He had a feeling that Julio and Mike both suspected where he had spent the night, but they were smart enough not to voice those suspicions. He was grateful for small mercies. The last thing he needed was Provenza getting wind of what was going on. There would be no end to the complaining if the old man figured out that he had a thing for Sharon Raydor.

It was not merely a _thing_ , though. He realized that, in the very short time they had spent together since he had given her a lift home the week before, he had come to care a great deal about her. There was a lot more to her than she had let them see while they had worked together, and he was eager to discover more of her previously unknown private side. They had agreed a few days ago that they would give it time, that they would wait for all the drama to pass before they decided what they wanted their relationship to be. It made sense. He had a hard time suppressing the urge to handle her problems for her, to simply drive over to the dirtbag's house with the file he had assembled and tell him to stay away from her or he'd beat the living daylights out of him. He wanted to protect her, but Sharon did not need protecting. She did not need anyone to handle her problems. If she wanted his help, she would let him know.

They both needed to figure out how much they would still like to be around one another once the threat to Sharon's safety was over. As far as he was concerned, he did not see his desire to be with her end any time soon. He just hoped that, once the dust settled, Sharon would still want to spend time with him.

He was still staring at his computer, his fingers absentmindedly touching his lips that were tingling at the memory of her kiss, when Provenza barking his name from the door to his office startled him out of his thoughts. Looking up at him, Andy bit back an annoyed response. Sometimes, he still struggled with the concept of his old friend and partner leading their division, even after five years. Lucky for him, the old man was not too big on protocol.

"Get over here. I need to talk to you," Provenza grumbled before he turned to walk back into his office.

Andy followed him, closing the door and sitting in one of the visitors chairs, frowning at his superior when he glared at him.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on with you?"

It was the question Andy had been dreading. Of course, Provenza would notice that something was on his mind. They had been friends for many years, after all. That did not mean, however, that he wanted the older man poking around in his personal business.

"I'm waiting for the damn financials and it's taking forever. That's what's going on," he tried to divert Provenza's attention.

His friend rolled his eyes. "You want to try again?"

He was ready to protest that nothing at all was going on when the other man slapped a file down on the desk in front of him. Startled, Andy stared at it, realizing that it was the SID report on Sharon's condo. So much for keeping that little investigation quiet. He had hoped that they would not need to involve the rest of the team, especially Provenza, since he disliked the former FID captain with a passion.

With a sigh, he threw his hands in the air and leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "All right, so I asked Mike and Julio to help me with a little off the books investigation. It's not a big deal, okay."

They both knew that it was, though. LAPD resources had been used in an unofficial investigation, and if someone wanted to make an issue out of it, there was no stopping them. Just like Andy, Provenza knew that Chief Howard would do little more than slap them on the wrist, but with Winnie Davis hounding their halls, things were a little more complicated. She was waiting for something like that to give them hell, and Fritz might have to take more severe steps to reprimand Andy in order to protect himself.

"Well, there's not gonna be any more off the books nonsense, and you better tell me the whole story right now so we can see how much trouble you're in," Provenza grumbled. He knew that Andy had not meant to break the rules, but as was often the case with him, trouble had a habit of finding him. Before the brass had chained him to this damn desk, Provenza had usually been right beside his old partner when that happened. Thinking about that made him feel nostalgic, but he pushed thoughts of the good old days out of his mind as Andy began to fill him in on the events of the past week.

"So, is that where you were last night and why you're still wearing the same clothes?" Provenza gestured at his slightly crumpled outfit, looking a little disgusted by the implications.

"Yeah," Andy responded, but quickly went on to explain when his friend's lips turned down even more. "It's not what you think. I called her last night before I went home to ask how her boss reacted when she told him about the dirt I dug up on him. She was completely out of it when she answered the phone, so I went over to her place to check on her. The asshole assaulted her. I guess he wanted to intimidate her into backing off."

The thought of what Spencer had done to Sharon got his blood boiling, and he wished that he could wrap his hands around the guy's throat. The sight of the bruise on her neck where he grabbed her was still too vivid in his mind.

"Did it work," the older Lieutenant asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell no. She kicked his ass, but he managed to give her a concussion. That's why I stayed at her place last night. She didn't want to go to the hospital, but I didn't want to leave her alone, either."

Provenza nodded, approving of his friend's decision. He might not care for Raydor very much, but that did not mean he wished for anything bad to happen to her. And he had to admit that he like the thought of her showing the creep that it was a bad idea to mess with her. There was no denying that she had been a good cop, even if she mostly walked around waving her rulebook.

"How was she this morning," he asked, slightly annoyed that he was forced to care about her wellbeing.

Andy sighed again. "Still in pain, but she looked a little better."

"Good." He nodded, thinking about what they would do next. "She's going to press charges, isn't she?" The idea had just occurred to the older Lieutenant that she might not, and the thought troubled him.

"I don't know. We didn't talk about that, but I'm sure she will." Andy honestly could not imagine that she would let something as serious as assault go just like that. The man had tried to beat her up, and she was not the first woman he had done that to. He would ask her about that as soon as he spoke with her again, and if necessary, he would give her a push in the right direction.

"Make sure she does. If we can get him for assault, her other problems will go away, and we won't have to worry about the stupid stunt you pulled with keeping your investigation off the books."

Provenza was still congratulating himself on solving all their problems when Andy's phone rang. Fishing it out of the inside pocket of his jacket, he frowned when it saw that it was Sharon. Quickly showing the display to the other man, he answered, his voice concerned.

"Lieutenant Flynn," she greeted him, sounding strained and out of breath as if she were in pain. "Today is your lucky day."

 **~TBC~**


	8. Chapter 8

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 8**

After Andy had left, Sharon managed to sleep for several more hours, even though she missed his comforting warmth spooned against her back. She had curled around his pillow, breathing in the faint traces of his scent that it still carried, but that had been a poor substitute. Eventually, her tired body had found the additional rest it needed and she awoke feeling a lot better.

It was mid-morning when she finally crawled out of bed, the bright sunshine that bathed her room in a golden light making her head pound uncomfortably. Her entire body ached, and her back and neck muscles were tense. Grabbing her most comfortable bra and a pair of matching panties to wear after her shower, she made her way into the bathroom.

She would like nothing more than to take a hot bath to find a little relief for her aching muscles. The previous night's events left her stiff and hurting all over, and the heat would surely help ease that pain a little bit. Considering her concussion and the fact that sitting in hot water messed with her blood pressure even on a good day, she decided to forego the bath in favor of a shower. With a sad look at the large tub, she wished that Andy was still with her. She was sure that he would have shared a bath with her in the interest of keeping her from drowning. It was an idea she decided to file away for later consideration. It would be much more enjoyable when she felt better, anyway, when a bath would only be the start, with many more pleasurable things to follow. However, that would have to wait a few day.

Instead, she started the water in the shower and undressed while it warmed up. When she stepped underneath the spray, hot water beating down on her back, her muscles began to relax almost instantly. She simply stood there for several minutes, letting the heat work its magic before she started to clean herself. Lifting her arms hurt, and so did washing her hair. She struggled through the pain, but decided to go without conditioning her hair this once, even though she would probably regret it once she tried to brush it.

Everything took more time and effort than usual that morning, and it made her feel much older than she actually was. She resolved to work out more after she recovered, convinced that a lot of the aches and pains she was feeling were related to her rather sporadic visits to the gym lately.

Once she had rinsed off, she carefully wrapped a towel around her head and twisted it into a turban. Then she dried herself off and rubbed some of the rich, jasmine-scented lotion into her skin. Lifting her legs unto the rim of the bathtub to apply the lotion caused her back to feel strained, and the discomfort made her groan.

It was far from the first time that she wished the day had started differently. She was feeling uncharacteristically sorry for herself, which annoyed her even more than her physical limitations. It also made her long for someone to pamper her a little bit. As she went through her morning routine, her mind kept wandering, filled with thoughts of large, warm hands gently massaging her scalp or traveling over her skin to spread the lotion, strong arms surrounding her, pulling her against a broad chest, and tender kisses planted into her hair. It would have been nice if she'd had Andy around a little longer, not just because she wished for someone to take care of her for once, but because she enjoyed his company.

With a huff and an eye roll, Sharon straightened up and put away the plastic bottle. She was disgusting herself with all the whining. It wasn't the first time she had been hurt, and it had been many, many years since anyone had been there to take care of her. She took care of herself and did not need anyone's help to do so. There was no way she would rely on another man, one she barely even knew, to look after her needs.

After quickly brushing her teeth and applying moisturizer to her face, she put on her underwear. Determined to get her day started, she made a mental list of things she could do that would allow her body to get sufficient rest while still making her feel like she accomplished something. There was work she could do from home, and there was always some laundry to fold. She was done feeling sorry for herself just because she got a little banged up. The pain would pass soon enough, and in the meantime, life went on.

Padding back into her bedroom, she tugged the towel off her head and tossed it onto the bed, letting her damp hair fall down her back in unruly curls as she continued on to her closet. She was standing on the balls of her feet, reaching for a pair of extra baggy sweatpants when she heard a strange sound from the foyer.

Someone had just entered her condo, she realized. Her next thought was that no one else had a key. Of course, her children did, but they were not currently in Los Angeles. In fact, she had talked to them only a few days ago, and they were extremely busy at work. There was no chance either of them had decided to pay her a surprise visit. The only other person who used to drop by unannounced was Jack, but she had changed the locks after the divorce, when she had learned that he was drinking again.

Her bedroom door was closed, but she was able to hear someone move around in the living room. With a few quick strides, she made her way over to her bedside table where she kept her gun. She used to lock it away when she was home, but ever since discovering that someone had broken into her place a few days earlier, she had taken to keeping it close by. Quietly sliding the drawer open, she retrieved the weapon, checked the clip, and disengaged the safety.

Pausing for a second to listen, she determined that whoever had entered her home was still in the living room. Deciding to put a little more distance between them, she rounded the bed, grabbed her phone off the table on the other side and her robe off the foot end of the bed, and slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

As she made her way to the other door, Sharon dialed 911 while unsuccessfully trying to slip into her bathrobe. All she needed to do was lock herself in, call the police and wait for help. She had no desire to shoot anyone, and if there was a way to avoid that, she would take it.

The door to the hallway was slightly ajar, which was concerning. Closing and locking it might alert the intruder to her presence and lead to the confrontation she was trying to get around. She had just reached the door when the dispatcher answered the phone, and her voice sounded much too loud to Sharon, even though it probably wasn't.

One hand on the door handle, Sharon was just about to ask for assistance when she was suddenly pushed back by the rapidly opening door. She jumped out of the way and stumbled over the laundry basket behind her. Losing her balance, she fell backwards, her back colliding with the vanity before she tumbled to the ground. The fall knocked the air out of her lungs and the phone out of her hand, but she still had a grasp on her gun. Trying to regain some semblance of feeling in her limbs, she eyed the man who was approaching her, taking careful note of his appearance. He was in his thirties, blonde hair, blue eyes, not too tall, and a little thick around the middle. He did not appear to be very fit, but she was not prepared to bet on that.

He was approaching faster than she thought, and before she was able to raise her hand and point the gun at him, he had kicked it out of her hand. She heard it slide over the tiles as she hissed in pain from the kick against her wrist. He grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet, turning her around so that she faced away from him. The robe that she had gotten tangled up in as she struggled dropped to the ground between them. He held her by the left wrist, twisting it behind her back, his other arm wrapped around her, holding her close to him.

"Hey, come here and look what I found," he yelled while Sharon still tried to shake off the sudden dizziness.

Someone tried to open the door that connected her bedroom to the bathroom and found it locked. Sharon realized that she had only a few precious seconds to act if she wanted to stand a chance. Once she was faced with more than one attacker at the same time, her odds of getting out of that situation unharmed would drop significantly.

With more force than she thought she had, she kicked back against the man's leg, hoping to catch his knee, followed immediately by a sharp jab of her elbow into his ribs. That caused him to loosen his grip a little, giving her enough room to lean forward and then smash her head into his face. He screamed in pain, his hands moving away from her to hold his nose, which was bleeding profusely. With a few more deliberate moves, she had pulled his head down, jammed her knee into his stomach, and brought her elbow down onto his back, sending him crumbling to the ground. His head hit the tile floor hard, and he did not move again.

Before she could climb over the unconscious man to retrieve the weapon that had come to rest next to the bathtub, someone grabbed her elbow from behind. He did not manage to hold her, but she turned to face him, which, in hindsight, had been a mistake. This one was armed with a knife, and he used her moment of hesitation to lunge at her.

Sharon jumped back and spun away from him, her bare feet losing traction when she stepped into a small puddle of blood oozing from the prone man's head. She was able to catch her fall this time, landing hard on her hands and knees, and losing no time to scramble a few feet farther until she could reach her gun. Feeling its reassuring weight in her hands, she rolled over, took a split second to take aim, and pulled the trigger twice.

He went down on top of his accomplice, moaning in pain. Sharon allowed herself to close her eyes for a brief moment before she struggled to her feet, still clutching the gun tightly and keeping a wary eye on the incapacitated men. She found the phone where it had slid underneath the shelf and retrieved it, relieved to see that it was still working and that the 911 operator was still on the other end of the line. The practiced calm with which she spoke sounded a little strained as her concern grew.

Still out of breath, Sharon gave the woman her name and address, and briefed her on what had transpired. While she spoke, she checked both men's pulses, relieved to find steady heartbeats. She carefully turned the man she had shot onto his back and, tugging a towel off the vanity, she pressed it against the wound in his shoulder. He groaned at the pressure, but she could not say that she cared too much about his discomfort at the moment.

The dispatcher reassured her that help was already on the way and kept asking her questions to make sure she was all right and had the situation under control. In the distance, Sharon could already hear the sirens drawing closer.

It was only another few minutes until she heard footsteps approaching down the hallway at a rapid pace. Hanging up with the dispatcher, she dialed another number, relief finally filling her when she heard the familiar rumble of his deep voice.

"Lieutenant Flynn," she greeted him, struggling for breath as the adrenaline rush slowly dissipated, allowing her to feel just how much pain she was in. "It's your lucky day."

She attempted to laugh at the irony of her statement, intended to bring a little levity to her situation, but there was a searing pain in her side, and when she looked down, she noticed that she was bleeding from a cut at her side. Suddenly, the dizziness and nausea were back, dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. She struggled to stay focused on her task, grateful for Andy's reassuring voice and the appearance of two patrol officers in her bathroom. One of the men holstered his gun and knelt beside her, while the other one went to fetch the paramedics, who were waiting outside for the condo to be declared safe.

Just a few more seconds, then she would be able to close her eyes, Sharon thought, as Andy promised to be with her soon and EMTs and police officers started crowding the bathroom.

 **~TBC~**


	9. Chapter 9

**None Left To Protest**

 **Chapter 9**

 **A/N:** Sorry for the delay, but I made a last minute decision to rewrite the ending. All stupid mistake in this are completely my fault, as the beta is being a very busy bee and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. You've all been absolutely amazing with your lovely reviews, favs, comments etc. Thank you so very much for sticking with me and for letting me know that you enjoyed the journey. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. 3 **  
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* * *

It was the second time in 24 hours that Andy realized how endless the drive to Sharon's place seemed if he desperately wanted to get there. This time, however, he did not hesitate to use lights and sirens. She had reassured him that help had arrived before the call had ended, but that did not make him worry any less. Sharon had not been very forthcoming with the details, but from the little she had shared, and judging from the sound of her voice, it was all too easy to imagine what had happened.

Provenza had waved him out of the door even before he'd had a chance to fill him in, only holding him back long enough to tell him that he would send Julio and Mike after him as soon as he got a hold of them. The former was still out with Buzz trying to secure some video footage for their actual case. They were expecting their return any moment, but Andy could not wait that long.

When he finally rushed through the barely opened doors of the elevator on the eleventh floor of Sharon's building, the hallway was a lot more chaotic than he had seen it that morning. The end of he hall was cordoned off with crime scene tape, and a patrol officer stood by to make sure no one crossed it without proper authorization. Curious neighbors were either subtly peeking through barely opened door or leaning into the hallway, openly staring at what was unfolding right in front of them. He ignored all of that, flashing his badge at the officer, who greeted him by name. Andy knew him, but he could not remember who the kid was.

Ducking under the tape that was politely held up for him, he strode into Sharon's condo, taking in the scene in front of him. A gurney was being pushed around the corner, and Andy stepped aside to make room for them to leave the condo. The man who was being transported by two paramedics was moaning pitifully, complaining about the unfairness of his situation, his face bruised and bloody. An officer followed them, greeting Andy as he passed by. Another officer who was standing in the living room pointed him down the hall, and when Andy turned the corner, he already saw Sharon through the open bedroom door.

She sat on the edge of her bed, clad in her underwear and a powder blue, untied bathrobe. An EMT knelt on the floor beside her. As he stepped closer, Andy gasped at the sight that met him. The medic was cleaning a cut that started just below her right breast and went all the way down to her navel. The fact that Sharon was still conscious and only winced occasionally as the disinfectant touched her wound indicated that it looked much worse than it actually was.

Andy sat next to her, taking hold of her hand and clasping it between both of his. He studied her closely, searching her body for any additional injuries. Her knees were red in addition to the faint marks she had sustained the day before when she had fought with her boss, and there was blood on her robe, too much to be only hers. Apart from that, she appeared to be uninjured, a realization that allowed him to finally breathe again.

"Hey," he greeted her quietly, squeezing her hand gently. "Are you okay? How bad is it?" He gestured towards the wound that was being tended to.

Sharon rolled her eyes, but gave him a reassuring smile. "It's not too bad. Stings more than anything."

The paramedic looked up and nodded. "She's right. It's just a scratch." Then he shifted his focus on Sharon. "I'll cover it up for you. Make sure you keep it clean. If it gives you any trouble, you should have a doctor look at it."

With that, he put away the disinfectant and started to tape gauze over the wound until it was securely covered. Then he rose to his feet and gave Sharon a stern look.

"Okay, you're all set. I want you to rest for the next few days. No more fighting bad guys for a while. And if the headaches get worse or you start feeling nauseous or dizzy, go to the emergency room right away," the young man advised. "Is there someone who can stay with you for the next 24 hours?" He cast a quick look at Andy before his eyes returned to his patient.

Andy did not even have to think about it. He nodded at the other man. "Yeah, I can stay," he said, giving Sharon a careful look to gauge her reaction. She did not seem to be mad at him for presuming he would be welcome, so he relaxed slightly.

"Great," the young man replied with a satisfied smile. "I'll leave you to it then and check how the others are doing with your two uninvited guests." He pointed towards the bathroom, walking away after Sharon thanked him.

She turned slightly to face Andy and winced at the movement, pressing her lips together to keep from giving voice to her discomfort. He was already concerned enough. There was no reason for her to make that worse. If only her back didn't hurt so much. She was sure that there would be an impressive bruise below her shoulder blades where she had bumped into the vanity.

Of course, Andy had noticed. He cupped her face with his free hand and gave her a searching look, his eyes burning into hers, daring her to hide anything from him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Sharon sighed, caressing his chest briefly as she returned his gaze.

"Yes, Andy, I am sure. I'm sore and I have a few bruises and a little cut. I admit that I have felt better, but I am okay."

He studied her for a few more seconds, narrowing his eyes slightly as he took in her appearance, then he finally relaxed a little, satisfied that she was telling the truth.

Before he was able to say anything else, however, Detective Sanchez entered the room. He gave Sharon a polite nod in greeting, carefully trying to avoid staring at the amount of skin that was exposed by her open robe. She blushed along with him as she quickly covered herself, tying the belt tightly.

"Ma'am, Sir," he started, after clearing his throat. "Both intruders are being taken to the hospital right now. The one you shot is unconscious, but the medics said he'll make it. Lieutenant Tao and I are gonna follow them and see if we can chat to the one who you signed up for a nose job, ma'am." He grinned at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Anyway, Sergeant Baker said that he'll have his guys out of here in a few minutes. We'll let you know what we can get out of your little friends there. One of them was already busy insisting it wasn't his idea when we passed him on our way into the building." He made a vague gesture towards the hallway and the men that had been taken away. "I'm sure it won't take much to get him to tell us all we want to know," he added on a grin. "Your statement can wait until tomorrow. Get some rest, ma'am. You deserve it," he said kindly, sounding a little awed at what she had accomplished. Then he nodded at his colleague sitting next to her and left.

They were quiet for a little while, listening to the officers collecting their things in the adjacent bathroom. There would still be quite a mess left behind once they were gone, and Sharon was not looking forward to cleaning all the blood off her tiles. She was tempted to do it right away while it was still easy to mop up, but the mere thought of moving more than absolutely necessary was too painful to contemplate.

She sensed Andy's eyes on her, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. He had taken hold of her hand with both of his when Julio had entered, and he had not let go, absentmindedly caressing it with his thumb.

"So, you fought off two grown men on your own… in your bathrobe," he stated, giving her an incredulous stare. "How very Arthur Dent of you."

Laughing hurt, she noticed, but she could not help it. The way he looked at her, somewhere between impressed and slightly annoyed, and the way he delivered that last line made her collapse against him, wheezing, and snorting, and gasping for breath.

They had talked about the Hitchhiker's Guide only a few days ago. He had told her that he was reading it because his son loved it, and it was something they would be able to talk about. She had confided that it was one of the first books she had gotten Ricky to be excited about. They had read it together every night before he went to sleep, taking turns to make it easier for him. She had very fond memories connected to that book, and she hoped that it would help Andy bond with his son, too.

When she was finally able to breathe again, Sharon wiped the tears off her cheeks and smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

"I wasn't wearing my robe," she stated with a shrug and a barely maintained straight face.

It took Andy a moment to process her words, and he blinked at her owlishly before his eyes widened when realization finally hit him.

"You broke a guy's nose and shot another guy - in your underwear?"

When she just shrugged again and allowed the corners of her mouth to lift into a small, proud smile, he groaned and shook his head in disbelieve.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

Sharon pouted as she slowly closed the gap between them, her back muscles protesting at the move. When her lips were close enough to his that her nose brushed against his cheek, she whispered softly, "Oh, I certainly hope not."

Then she kissed him. She swallowed his half-hearted protest as she devoured him, her tongue sliding over his lips, demanding access. His arms slipped around her underneath her robe, his hands caressing the bare skin of her lower back.

Sharon moaned when he responded, clawing at his clothes to get them out of the way. The raw desire she felt was unexpected, but the idea of not being close to him, of not feeling his skin against hers was unbearable all of a sudden. They both knew that it was a reaction to what had happened, to the realization of how close she had come to being seriously harmed, but there was no stopping it.

That was, until someone cleared their throat only a few steps from them. They had no idea how long Sergeant Baker had tried to get their attention, but the man looked decidedly uncomfortable. It was Andy who finally met his gaze, while Sharon was busying herself with tugging at her robe, trying to cover herself as much as possible once again.

Her face was bright red, and she wished she was able to hide behind Andy's broad back without anyone noticing. It was not like her at all to get caught in situations like that. She hated public displays of affection that went beyond a hug or a quick peck on the lips. In the grand scheme of things, however, it did not matter much. Baker had already seen her in her underwear earlier. It had been him who had caught her when, upon getting up from where she had knelt on the bathroom floor, she had gotten lightheaded. She supposed that, compared to having his hands on her bare midriff, seeing her make out with Andy Flynn was not such a big deal.

The Sergeant lingered only long enough to inform them that they were done documenting the crime scene and would be leaving. After a hurried goodbye, he quickly retreated down the hall. A moment later, they heard the front door close, followed by the quiet of blessed solitude.

With a groan, Sharon let her head fall against Andy's shoulder, hiding her face behind her hands. His arms went around her, and he stroked her back in sympathy. While he did not really feel bad about being caught kissing a woman he still considered way too good for him, Andy would have liked to keep their fledgling relationship between the two of them for a little while longer. Chances were good, however, that news of what had been witnessed would be all over the department by the following day.

On the other hand, it was probably a good thing they had been interrupted. They had gotten carried away a bit, and considering the last couple of days, it would not have been wise to let things go too far.

"How about we get you dressed?" Andy let his fingers trail along the sleeve of her robe, tugging on it slightly to get her attention.

When Sharon looked up, she was pouting. "Hmm, I was hoping to get undressed," she drawled suggestively.

"Is that so?" he inquired as he grinned at her.

"Mmhmm. Before that," she gestured towards the bathroom, "I was actually thinking how nice it would be to share a bath with you. "

Her tone left little to doubt of what exactly a shared bath would entail, and Andy's mind was only too happy to provide him with detailed visuals.

"I like the way you're thinking. I'd have you right in front of me, all hot and wet and at my mercy." There was a dreamy smile on his face as he imagined that scene, and it only broadened when Sharon playfully slapped his arm.

"I'll show you mercy, mister."

With that, she gave him a shove and got up, only barely managing to suppress a groan as every part of her body protested the move. A bath did sound great, but it would have to wait a few days, at least until her cut had begun to heal a little.

She walked over to the closet, still preoccupied with thoughts of hot water and Andy, and she did not hear him come up behind her. For a split second, she stiffened at the sudden heat behind her, but then her brain caught up with her instincts, and she relaxed into his embrace as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into him.

His lips found the sensitive skin just behind her ear as his hands untied her sash and tugged the robe apart to gain access to her skin. She shuddered when he trailed gentle fingers up and down her stomach, careful to avoid the gauze-covered cut at her side.

"It would be perfect," he whispered against her neck. "I'd have both hands free to touch you all over."

To illustrate his point, he allowed his thumbs to brush along the sides of her breasts, coming maddeningly close to her nipples. Then he let one hand slide down to the edge of her panties, tracing it with his fingertips, drawing a moan from her.

"I'd make you fall apart in my arms over and over again until you beg me to stop."

She whimpered, holding onto his arms as her knees grew weak. The picture he was painting was exactly what she wanted. Trying to turn around, she was ready to protest when he held her in place, his lips trailing soft kisses along her jaw and cheek.

"We'll have to keep that in mind for when you're feeling a little better. For now, let's get you dressed and fed," he suggested, gently tugging the robe off her shoulders and tossing it over the bench at the foot end of the bed.

He frowned when he turned back and saw the large bruise that was beginning to form just underneath her shoulder blades. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over the darkened skin, wincing as he imagined the pain she must be in.

"I fell against the vanity. It probably looks worse than it feels," she tried to reassure him.

"I'm sure it feels bad enough," he replied gruffly, not convinced at all by her attempt to make him worry less. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Turning slightly in order to look up at him, Sharon gave him a small smile, grateful to have him with her.

"Could you unhook my bra, please? It's a little uncomfortable."

That was an understatement. It sat right on top of the bruise and put constant pressure on the tender skin. When Andy's deft fingers opened the clasp at her back, she sighed in relief, quickly discarding the item.

She tugged a large, faded LAPD t-shirt out of her closet and shrugged into it, hissing in pain when she raised her arms over her head. After she was done, she wearily eyed the top shelf that held the sweat pants she wanted to wear. Before she was able to ask, Andy was right behind her again.

"What do you need?"

There were so many ways to answer that question, but Sharon refrained from going down one of the more dangerous roads. Instead she pointed him towards the item she wanted, giving him a quick kiss on the lips when he handed it to her a moment later.

He steadied her as she put on the pants as quickly as possible, eager to finally be properly covered, despite all those deliciously naughty ideas they'd had earlier. The truth was, she was exhausted and in pain, and she had not even begun to process the most recent events.

When she was dressed, Sharon turned to face Andy and closed the slight distance between them, putting her arms around his middle. Her head rested against his chest, and she sighed in relief when he wrapped her in a gentle embrace.

They were quiet for a long moment, soaking up the warmth and comfort of each other's presence.

After a while, Andy shifted a little, attempting to draw away from her when her stomach growled impressively. He wanted to suggest making breakfast, but she spoke before he was able to.

"Don't let go," she whispered, almost a question, tugging him even closer.

He tightened his hold on her, kissing her neck and nuzzling into that space right below her ear. His breath tickled against the sensitive skin there when he answered. "I'm not sure I'd know how, anyway."

"Good."

With that she closed her eyes, feeling safe in the knowledge that he was right there with her. The pain was still intense, even more so with every passing minute, indicating that she should take another dose of painkillers soon. Her bathroom still needed cleaning, and it would be days before the physical traces of her ordeal would be gone. The reality of it had not yet sunk in completely, but it would eventually, and she would have to deal with the fallout. There would be dark days ahead of her, but she was no longer facing them alone.

She had not set out to find love again. In fact, she had been very content without it. She certainly had never imagined to fall in love with Andy Flynn. He had appeared out of nowhere, and he had worn down her defenses with his kindness and his understanding of who she was and what she needed. Without realizing it, he had dismantled the wall she had built around her heart brick by brick, until none was left, until all she could do was stop fighting the inevitable and surrender to what felt so right to both of them. Together, they would face whatever lay ahead.

 **~FIN~**


End file.
